Ripper's London
by Fictionnaire
Summary: Gibbs, Tony and McGee... are in London 1888 and are investigating the Jack The Ripper killings. This is in response to NFA's Decades and Eras Challenge. Has some guest appearances from other NCIS members.
1. Chapter 1

**RIPPER'S LONDON**

_Rating: FR - 15. May go up as time goes on.  
A/N: A response to the challenge… Decades and Eras Challenge issued by soundheimmcgeek who is a history buff. She loves trying to imagine our favorite characters in a historical setting, so…_

Summary: Scotland Yard Inspector Leroy Jethro Gibbs takes charge of the investigation of the Whitechapel Murders. He works with the reluctant but loyal Officer Anthony DiNozzo and a rookie PC Timothy McGee. The unusual team of three work their unorthodox methods to apprehend Jack The Ripper. It also stars some other familiar faces.

Disclaimer: First off, I must say that I'm not passing off any of the content, thoughts or suspicions as fact. Some of this is content has been researched from what are known as Ripperologists. Must say, that a lot in this story is personal opinion.  
I am not making any sort of profit from this story. This is of course based around the historical year of 1888. Jack The Ripper terrorizes London. It contains graphic violence, depiction of murder. Sexual References and some sexual acts. Well you can't be in The Ripper's London if you leave those out. So be warned… 

**CHAPTER ONE: 08/09/1888  
The murder of Annie Chapman**

Whitechapel was never known for being the quiet part of London. Poorly lit street lamps provided ample cover for dealings and unlawful acts. Prostitution was not frowned upon by the lower to middle class population. And occasionally the Officers turned a blind eye if paid enough. But some could be convinced into doing anything by granting them some sexual favors.

With it being the kind of area it was… Stabbings and robberies were nothing strange, considering the workers and dark passages. Lamps' lights only reached so far. Officer Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo was working well into the night again. The gruesome body of 'Polly' Nichols was discovered on the last day of August. Polly's body was cut up, badly. This was something born of nightmares. Tony wiped his eyes as he put the autopsy photographs down. Every night he studied the photographs intently, almost willing them to talk to him.

His colleagues tried to convince him that it was a jilted lover or may be someone who felt they didn't get their money's worth. Maybe that was true… But, deep down, Tony's gut was turning inside out. Now, he was in no way calling his colleagues incompetent… They were far from it… Maybe a little narrow minded or a little habitual at thinking inside the box.

"Anthony!" Another man banged the wooden desk to wake him up.

Tony mentally scowled the man with the use of that name. Anthony was always too formal. The orange glow was just beginning to break through the windows of the Station. Another day had dawned. Tony wasn't surprised that he fell asleep at work once again, it seemed to happen a lot these days. "What?" Tony grumbled as he began using his hand to brush his hair.

"We got another murder… This time at Hanbury Street," the man said as he put something in his mouth. "Looks like you were right. We got a multiple murderer on our hands. The boss wants us down there right away… And he means now," he added.

"Could you not sound so upbeat about it Gordon," Tony mumbled once again as he grabbed his coat and they made their way to the 29 Hanbury Street. Actually, Gordon was the only one he felt comfortable with at work as well as socially.

-----------------------  
**29 Hanbury Street 8/9/1888**

By the time they arrived there a crowd of morbidly curious people had formed near the entrance to the house. There were also members of the lodgings house that needed to be questioned. "Hey!" Gordon walked up to the Police Constable who was trying to keep someone unauthorized from getting to the crime scene. "Having problems keeping the crowd under control?" Gordon asked.

"A little," the PC said as he kept an eye on the crowd. He was positive that if they wanted to, they could rush past him in a flash. But it seemed that the uniform wielded much power.

"You're doing good there PC McGee," Gordon assured him. The onlookers seemed noisy but under control at least.

"Thank you, sir," The young man's chest almost puffed out with pride.

"Anthony DiNozzo!" The man shouted. "How 'bout sayin' a few words for the Gazette. Or at least let me come with yas," he almost pleaded with the officer.

"Lewis Roberts… I should've known," Tony shook his head. "I can't let you in… Sorry about that," he walked away smiling with Gordon quickly in tow.

"Wait 'til ya father hears 'bout this. He ain't going to be happy if his own son is blockin' his paper," Lewis shouted at the man's retreating back. He huffed in anger at being ignored. They heard Lewis shout at the two officers but were unable to ascertain what was actually being said.

"What have we got?" Tony pulled out his notebook as he began to listen to what the Doctor was about to say.

"Ah… Young Anthony," The old doctor said. Tony never knew the man's age and never asked. He wasn't sure if it was just the fact of him being a Doctor but he was always reminded of the stage character of Doctor Jekyll.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me, Tony, Doctor Mallard?" Doctor Mallard had insisted that nobody call him by his title. "You know… You actually remind me of a young Irish lad who came over in '74… A good man, but…,"

Tony waved his hand for him to stop. "The victim," Tony prodded the older man to stay on track. It sometimes had to be done or he was sure that Doctor Mallard would go on endlessly about people he met. They were interesting stories, but they just seemed to go on and on.

"Yes, the victim," Doctor Mallard got him self back onto the subject. "One deceased female… Identified by lodgers as Annie Chapman… A regular -," Mallard was interrupted once again.

"Dark Annie," Tony mouthed. He was familiar with some of the whores that roamed Whitechapel. Though he didn't know them in a client sort of way. This earned him raised eyebrow looks from the two other men. "Hey… I know what you two are thinking… So stop it," he said with a laugh.

Mallard sighed heavily. This wasn't the first time he'd seen a victim like this. "One deceased female… According to eyewitness reports when I got here… Annie Chapman's age varies from thirty five to forty five. A working girl with the name of Dark Annie as young Anthony pointed out," Mallard said, causing Tony to blush a little before getting back to it.

"Can we look through the pockets now?" Tony asked.

"I've done all I can here. Once I get this woman to the mortuary, I'll be able to tell you more then," Mallard responded with a nod.

Gordon bent down to the body to begin going through the pockets. "So she's wearing a long black coat," he began to list the clothing so Tony could write it down. "Black skirt… Oh," Gordon grimaced a bit as he noted the stickiness from the blood as Tony began to sketch the body's position. "Brown Bodice… Guess we know how she kept her figure intact," Gordon smiled a bit but nobody took any notice of it. "Nothing on the inside pocket of the skirt… Excuse me," he said as he withdrew his hands from beneath the skirt. "Two petticoats… She was really prepared for anything," Gordon said.

"Gordon!" Tony shouted to make sure Gordon knew that there were just things that were inappropriate.

"Sorry… Lace up boots… Laced up. Red and white stockings. White with a wide red border neckerchief, knotted in front of the neck. Some muslin material," he laid the contents out in the yard. "One small comb. One case containing one comb. A bit of envelope," Gordon rubbed his blonde hair and showed that that was all the contents.

"Right. We should interview witnesses and then search the lodge," Tony said as he finished sketching the area.

"Think we should tell that Gazette man. Get a statement out. You know, maybe in tomorrow's paper could help us," Gordon suggested.

"No… We go to them with nothing. Then every man that has a grudge against or one that owes the wrong person money, sleeps with someone's wife or girlfriend or one that doesn't pay for 'services' will be brought in as the killer or even killed," Tony said flatly. He didn't want things to get too out of hand. Not yet anyway. Tony and Gordon walked to the front of the lodging house.

"Now…," Gordon said with hands open. "We're going to be speaking with a lot of you, so we'll be needing your co-operation on this matter. We would also like to bring in some people to search each of the rooms in this house. Of course we'd like your consent in doing so," Gordon continued on.

"Hey!" Lewis walked along the group of people. "Anthony DiNozzo. In ya opinion, was it the same one who killed Polly Nichols? Come on," Lewis pleaded for something from the officers.

"We're not making a statement right now," Tony said. "You'll all be informed when we will make an official statement," he added. He was sure that he'd hear from his father about this.

"So that a yes then?" Lewis asked. They didn't deny that. "It's a yes?"

Tony stopped walking suddenly and turned around quickly. "If you print that Lewis Roberts, claiming any Officer has told you that, I'll have my father fire you. And he'll make sure you never work for another paper again," Tony said with his eyes narrowed. It would be something he'd do if he was pushed far enough by a reporter. But he'd rather limit his contact with his father unless necessary.

"What about Martha Tabram?" Lewis asked. "Connected ta her in any way?"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Who?" He asked.

"You were away those few days," Gordon said. "Martha Tabram's killer was caught and he's still serving time for that murder. So it couldn't be the same one," he corrected. That part was factual.

"Hey… Hey!" Lewis shouted to get their attention once again. "What if yas got it wrong?" He asked seriously. Lewis had often seen mistakes on the officers' side of things even if they didn't want to admit it. He followed their conduct and investigations closely.

**Mortuary**

Tony and Gordon watched Doctor Mallard scrub his hands. He hadn't yet had time to change from the bloody gown he had on. "What have you found out, Doctor Mallard?" Tony asked.

"Can you not call me that?" Mallard sounded mad. "I keep thinking that you're talking to my father, not me," he explained.

"Well, Donald sounds so formal and it just is… Well Donald," Tony shrugged.

"Call me Ducky then," Ducky suggested and went on to explain about how he acquired that nickname from when he was a young lad.

"Alright, alright… Ducky it is then," Tony said as he stifled back a yawn. The hours of endless testimonies, frantic eyewitness accounts and hysterical women filled the day. Last thing the two wanted was to hear a story about a lake they've never heard of, including people they'd never meet. "What have you got, Do-, I mean Ducky," Tony quickly corrected him self.

"Right. Annie Chapman," Ducky lit up an oil lamp so that he could look over some of his notes. It was already reaching night time. "I haven't managed to fill out a detailed report yet. But I'll give you what I have so far. "The poor girl was under nourished and had little water. But she was in poor health even at the best of times. She was afflicted with diseased lungs and of the brain. She may have been a sickly girl but it wasn't at the stage where it would kill her. There were new bruises and older bruising on the temple. The newer bruises were located on the jaw of Annie Chapman which suggests that the killer held her like this before slitting her throat," Ducky held Tony with his left hand across the younger man's jaw and chin and made a slicing motion with the right.

Tony flexed his jaw. He always wondered why he was the one used in these physical demonstrations. He was thankful when the Doctor stopped using props since Tony almost went into self defense mode when Ducky held a knife near him.

"That's not all… After the throat was cut… That was when the real misery began I'm afraid," Ducky said solemnly.

"I felt the blood beneath her clothing when I was going through her pockets… I know it was pretty bloody," Gordon said.

Ducky shook his head slowly. "What you saw was only the surface. You see, a lot of it was underneath the coat. I couldn't perform any more than a preliminary examination on site with so many people wanting a look," he gave the reason for not giving the details earlier. Ducky explained the state of the body. As his detailed explanation about the innards becoming outards became more graphic, he saw the two faces turning pale.

"Excuse me," Gordon said as he dashed for the sink where violent retching could be heard. "Oh that means… Eww. God," he furiously washed his hands. It was difficult to fathom at how close he had been to touching guts. The thought of it was just sickening.

"Have some water, Mister Cale," Ducky suggested after he was sure the man was finished.

"Thanks, Doc," Gordon said, just managing to smile. "There's still some time left. We should see if they've finished searching through 29 Hanbury Street," he added. Tony nodded to Gordon and they turned to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**RIPPER'S LONDON Chapter 2  
10/09/1888: Names**

As the sunlight shone off the stone streets, two uniformed men on either side of the street put out the lamps individually. It was their job every morning. There was a murderer on the streets and they were a little fearful of what they could possibly come across. Whitechapel had never been a quiet place. Everyday they didn't come across a murdered body was a good day.

* * *

Tony was woken up early in the morning by the heavy knocking on his house's door. He threw his robe on and closed it tightly before answering the door. "Open up, Tony!" It was Gordon's voice on the other side of the door. Tony only managed to open the door before his partner burst through. "Look at this… Courtesy of the Gazette. Seems your friend and father have taken it upon themselves to… Here, look at this," Gordon turned the pages of The Gazette and handed it to him.

Tony took the paper and read it. The calligraphic headline caught his eye as he was sure that the readers would take note. 'Leather Apron'. "That Bastard," Tony dropped the paper. The press knew less than they did but were out to connect the murders and made sure to mention that the police had nothing to go on.

The media were the ones who coined the phrase 'Leather Apron.' Tony wondered why they had to give the Whitechapel Murderer some sort of poetic name. It was almost romantic in a sick twisted sort of way. It was impossible to tell who came up with the name first… It kind of just appeared and stuck around.

"That's not all… Mentions us. We're famous you and I," Gordon smiled. Of course that could have dire consequences and they both knew it.

"I'm going to kill him," Tony said with annoyance. People weren't sure whether it was the fact that Tony's father owned a newspaper or not, but Tony's displeasure directed at the press was widely known. The public had someone known they could direct their anger and frustration at. Being angry at 'Leather Apron' was a given… But until the killer was caught, there was nobody to hate. Tony dropped the paper on the table.

**Suspect John Pizer… Commercial Street Police Station**

"We got him!" The cry tore through the station like wildfire. It didn't need any explanation. The whole station was a buzz with talk. "Leather Apron, right here. John Pizer's his name. We searched his house… Found a bloody knife in his shed," Peterson said with pride.

They forcibly shoved John Pizer into the room that was used for interrogating suspects. A group of people followed them taking the suspect in. Momentarily the rest of the H-division of the Metropolitan Police was figuratively in shutdown mode. Hardly anybody noticed the grey haired, blue eyed man observing the chaos that had occurred. The man lowered his head as he sat down on a chair in the corner.

Everyone wanted in on the interrogation. Cracking the 'Leather Apron' would be a real feather in the cap and a sudden climb on the Promotion ladder. They were almost to the point of drawing straws to see who got first go. Peterson got first crack since he was the man who had brought in the cuffed John Pizer.

"Something doesn't add up," Tony responded as he took out the notebook and retrieved the notes from all the testimonies that they documented.

"Looks like you really need to clean your desk," Gordon commented.

"Here it is," Tony said as he pulled a folder out from a stack of paper. He quickly flicked through the pages that he had transcribed from his notes. "Well, he's definitely foreign," there was a disappointed sigh. "Right… The fence separating 29 and 27 Hanbury Street is approximately five foot in height as shown here… Now… Annie Chapman was about five foot tall as well. Thus making her invisible to 27's Cardosh or Cardoche. At 5 30 precisely, Elizabeth Long sees an unidentified man talking with Annie Chapman. She hears them speaking but doesn't think anything of it," Tony explained as he dropped the notebook on the desk.

"Well it fits then," Gordon said in return.

PC McGee walked up to them as they stood near the main desk. "Just the man I'm looking for," Tony told the young PC.

McGee swallowed as he thought of the possibilities of what reasons Tony could have for needing him. "Yes?" McGee asked. Being one of the younger people in H-Division came along with being treated like someone just out of school.

"Hang around… We might need you for something," Tony looked at the man sitting in the corner with his arms folded. "Keep an eye out on that guy to," he discreetly pointed to the man in the corner.

"I need to speak with someone," A man in an expensive suit placed his top hat onto the main desk. He took the white gloves off and placed them next to his hat. "My name is Samuel Montagu," he shook hands with Tony. "As you are well aware… I am owner of Montague Clothing Shops. I'm here on official business," he adjusted his coat-tail jacket and waited for a response.

"How can we help you?" Gordon asked.

"My employees and I have gathered a sum of money together and we are offering a one hundred pound reward for the capture of 'Leather Apron'," Samuel answered.

McGee was the one who spoke up first. "You offer a reward of that much and everyone with only a couple of pennies to their name will be naming anybody as the murderer," he interjected. They could see the implications that such a monetary reward could bring.

"Why would you… A prominent businessman be taking such steps for the murder of prostitutes?" Tony asked him. It seemed to be out of the ordinary. There were motives behind every action.

"Think about the future… Think about years down the track. If the murderer of these whores is left unsolved, eventually they will be wiped out or pack their bags and move somewhere else… If that happens, who would the next set of victims be?" Samuel asked in such a solemn tone. "Unlike many people in Whitechapel… I look to the future. I think I'm able to foresee what could possibly be," he told them. Samuel always classed him self as a visionary.

"Thought you'd run off to the Gazette and offer the reward there," Gordon commented.

"I'm going to see how the interrogation is going," Tony said as he walked down the hall. The last thing he wanted was to hear about the newspaper.

"The offer will be open to anyone… From Police to street workers. I'm on my way to see Mister DiNozzo now. Keep up the good work, men," Samuel put on the white gloves and the hat.

"Thanks," Gordon responded as he watched the man leave.

**The Whitechapel Vigilance Committee**

George Lusk wasn't a tall man. Nor did he look like a man who could fight. But that wasn't his way. George was able to work a crowd and bend them to his way of thinking and that seemed more dangerous than any physical altercation could be. The small thin beard on restricted his facial expressions.

"Now… It's obvious that the Police have lost control over Whitechapel," Lusk took his turn to speak. "Their control has been slippin' from their unsteady hands for quite some time. Yes… I agree that we need a group who can police what they can't or won't. It's up to us, the people to make the streets safe for the working class again. At the moment, there's no guarantee that the streets are safe for our women or children… At least not until this 'Leather Apron' is caught or killed," Lusk waited for the others to nod their heads in full agreement.

More people started muttering to each other. In this point of time, Lusk didn't care if they were actually for or against. That was of little or no consequence right now. The point was to stir the pot of raw emotion. Hatred and anger equaled action whereas the Whitechapel police were bound by laws, rules and protocol that drew them into what he saw as inaction.

"A group of people is needed that is filled with the general population to protect the general population from any threat. It's totally understandable that there is fear among you lot that's preventing someone from taking charge of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee… It'd be a great responsibility… The leader would be in the forefront. If things go to hell, the leader would be held accountable. He is the soul person responsible for the conduct of the committee," Lusk thought about changing his mind at the last minute. He almost had talked him self out of what he planned to do. "The rest of London's eyes are fixated on Whitechapel… I come here to throw my hat in and offer my services as President of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee," Lusk sat back down and patiently waited for the decision to be made. Everything was out of his hands and into theirs.

George Lusk didn't have to wait long… They were eager to bypass all this talk to elect someone who can act without letting the thought of retribution dictate the actions. An elderly man stood up eventually. "I myself would have happily accepted the Presidency if not of my advanced age. We have come to the conclusion that the best course of action is the only one that has presented itself. Mister George Lusk… You are now appointed Chairman of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee. But be warned Mister Lusk, we will not tolerate misconduct," the man told him.

"I know… You won't regret this decision," Lusk gave the slightest of polite nods as he gracefully accepted the appointment. "Even though I'm sure you surely regret it coming to this," they shook hands to seal the deal.

**Police Station**

"Well?" Peterson was asked by somebody as soon as he left the room. "Did he confess? Did he do it?"

Peterson tucked the notes under his arm before responding. "No… Not yet. It's just a matter of time… Said that the bloody knife was used to kill a neighbor's dog… Likely story if you want my opinion. We're going to send the knife to Doctor Mallard to see what he can get from it. Though I'm certain that this is the weapon used in the murder," Peterson said triumphantly. Singlehandedly he put an end to the London terror.

"How about the knife's length?" Tony asked him.

"It's close to the length stated," Peterson answered.

"Well let's just see…," Tony checked through his pockets. "Where's my notebook?" He asked. It was nowhere to be found.

"Think you left it on your desk," Gordon answered.

Tony nodded as he walked towards his desk and searched the desk. "I told you, you needed to clean it," Gordon said as he smiled in jest.

"Shut up," Tony snapped as he began searching beneath everything. Raw Information was what Tony referred untouched information as. It was info taken straight from the crime scene and not yet interpreted. As it goes through channels and rewrites, the notes and evidence get tainted with personal opinion and omissions. "Where is it?" Tony ran his fingers through his hair before looking under the desk.

"It should be here," Gordon answered as he began looking through the mess of papers. "I specifically saw you put it down," he added. There wasn't anything that looked like a notebook anywhere.

"It's gone," Tony swiped his hair again. "Someone's taken it," he said accusingly. "Everybody stop! Just stop what you're doing!" Tony shouted until everyone in the station came to a stand still. There was silence. "I had a notebook on this desk. I demand to know who has it and I want it back," he said to the other people.

"What's that Anthony DiNozzo Junior?" Someone with an accented voice asked. It was something that really rubbed Tony up the wrong way. Being called Anthony was bad enough but adding Junior to the end of his name was down right insulting. It was only one more reminder of who his father was.

"I just want my notebook with my notes back," Tony said as he walked through the crowd of people. "I want that book back in my hands in half an hour. I will ask no questions and just put it down as some kind of joke," Tony said seriously. Perhaps it was some sort of game someone was playing.

It looked as if his orders were getting him nowhere. No one owned up to the missing notebook. Maybe later it'd mysteriously turn up on the desk by tomorrow. At least he had transcribed the important things. So maybe it wasn't too much of a loss. But then again it was a matter of principle


	3. Chapter 3

**RIPPER'S LONDON Chapter 3  
Forming the team  
Date: 12/09/1888**

"Gazette News! Inquest into Annie Chapman starts today! Inquest into Leather Apron's second victim starts today!" The young boy shouted out. There were no better newspaper sellers than kids who were willing to run around the streets shouting at the tope of their lungs. People eagerly handed over the coins for copies of the paper to read about the misery that 'Leather Apron' was causing the streets of Whitechapel.

**Working Lads' Institute Hall  
9 00 am. Inquest into Annie Chapman's Murder begins**

"This is the inquest into Annie Chapman's murder and I will not tolerate it being turned into some circus," the Chairman said with conviction. "Due to the infamy of this murder and that Mary Nichols, I have taken the unusual step of letting in members of the public. But if it turns into a circus, if there are uproars then I'll clear the hall… Everybody better understand that," he continued as he made sure to lay down the law.

Tony's eyes scanned the room from his vantage point. It was a possibility that 'Leather Apron' could be in the very same room. They could be standing a few feet away from him and not even know it. His eyes fixated on the silver haired stranger. "What is he doing here?" Tony asked.

"What?" Gordon asked as he watched a witness go to the chair.

"That's the man that was at the station, not saying or doing anything," Tony said without taking his eyes off the man. "I wonder who he is…," he said and noticed that the silver haired man was scanning the room to as if looking for someone or something.

Blue eyes locked with green eyes for a second with intensity. Tony quickly broke his gaze. Members of the press were hovering around like a plague of rats waiting to feed on the rotting form of humanity.

Coroner Wynne E. Baxter was in charge of questioning the witnesses and the doctor. He was no stranger to medical controversy or being in the limelight. Tony knelt down beside Ducky's chair. "Who's Baxter? He kind of looks familiar," Tony whispered.

Ducky acknowledged Tony's remark with a nod. "Wynne E. Baxter… He's well known for his work in the medical profession with Joseph Merrick," Ducky answered Tony.

Joseph Merrick's name didn't ring the bell for Tony. "I must be confusing him with somebody else," Tony commented.

"No, I don't think so Anthony… Perhaps you know the young man by his unfortunate circus name of The Elephant Man," Ducky elaborated on the medical case that Wynne E. Baxter was famous for. Just about everybody knew who the Elephant Man was. The young man's grotesque appearance had given birth to monsters and horror stories. Underneath all the deformed skin, Joseph was probably a wonderful human being.

"Oh yeah… Hey. Do you know that man over there?" Tony pointed towards the silver haired man who was looking around once again.

"No idea, Anthony. I've seen the man around before. Actually he seemed to appear out of nowhere about a week ago," Ducky answered. He had seen the stranger at the station a few times and also just around Whitechapel but never had the occasion to have a conversation with the man.

"Been about a week huh?" Tony said before returning to where he was standing. His mind was forcing two and two together. Again he scanned the room. He was trying to ascertain which of the people looked like they could attack a woman with such ferocity. In his mind, he began to mull that very question over and over.

"State your name and what you do for a living," Coroner Baxter said to the next witness that was called. The woman casted her eyes downward, giving the hall full view of her thick curly hair. "It's alright… No need to be shy," Baxter encouraged her.

"Elizabeth Long," Elizabeth answered. "I am a park-keeper," she said.

"You may have to speak up so everybody can hear you," Baxter said as he paced in front of her. "You stated to the police that you were walking down Hanbury Street on the eighth of September… Can you tell the people what you had observed when you reached number 29?" Baxter asked.

"Yes. I was going to the Spitalfields Market to pick things up for some meals. I passed Anne Chapman and she was speaking with a man who was slightly taller than her. I think he was a foreigner. He had an accent," Long attempted to avoid eye contact from all the people looking at her. She rubbed her hands nervously.

"Did you get a look at their faces?" Baxter queried.

"No… They were facing each other. The man's back was towards me and the street while Anne Chapman's back was against the fence," Elizabeth answered.

"What time did this occur?" Baxter asked.

"It was half past five in the morning. I know because the Black Eagle Brewery clock sounded. That was when I heard the man ask… 'Will you?' and Anne Chapman said 'Yes' by the end of that, I had passed by. It wasn't unusual for those kind of women and men talking at that time of the morning," Elizabeth answered, getting more confident as time went on.

"What was the man wearing?" Baxter asked her.

"He was wearing one of those brown deer-hunting hats. He wore a big coat. Black I think but might've been dark grey or brown. I don't know for sure. The light wasn't too good around that area. It is hard to tell the exact color," Elizabeth responded. She looked at the coroner to see if her answer was alright.

"Thank you," Baxter told Elizabeth as she stepped off the chair and left the hall. "Next I would like to call Mister Cadosch," Baxter said. With what was going on, there wasn't any room to waste time. Like everyone else, Baxter knew that the Press was looking for any excuse to criticize proceedings.

A young sat on the chair and rubbed his ear as he waited to be asked the questions. He thought that at least he didn't take the stand first. There were two things he hated at times and that was being first in line and last in line. "State your name, address and what you do for a living?" Baxter began the witness statement.

"Albert Jean Cadosch. I live at 27 Hanbury Street and I'm a carpenter," Albert answered as he leaned forward just a bit.

"Could you please tell us what you saw and heard on the morning of eighth of September?" Baxter asked the question. Making sure that he kept his voice even and his questioning direct.

Albert thought for a moment as he made sure he recalled everything of relevance from that morning. "I woke up at around quarter after five and went outside. While out there, I heard a woman call out 'no'," Albert answered the question.

"You are a family man are you not? Tell me what you were doing outside at that time of morning," Albert noticed the slight redness appear on the young man's face. "I think we get it. In your opinion, what did the woman's voice sound like?" Albert asked.

"Angry," Albert answered. "She sounded angry. I didn't see or hear who she was talking to. And as it's a common occurrence for people to 'meet' in between our two houses so I didn't think much of it. After getting a drink, I left the house again and decided to wait until Alice got out of bed so I wouldn't disturb her. The clock at Christ Church read thirty two after five. There was the sound of something hitting the fence but I did not investigate," Albert continued with the story.

"Why didn't you investigate?" Baxter asked.

Albert rubbed the back of his neck. "Well you know… It wasn't uncommon for sexual acts to be performed in the area," Albert answered.

"Did you see anybody?" Baxter asked directly.

"No I did not see anybody at all. I heard the noise against the fence and nothing else," Albert answered. Internally, he was grateful that he didn't investigate what was going on. God only knew what could have happened if he did.

"Thank you Mister Cadosch," Baxter said as he motioned for the young man to leave the chair.

-----------------------

An officer tapped Tony on the shoulder. "Hey… Mister DiNozzo," the officer said and stood on his toes to talk into the taller man's ear. "There's a stain that's been found at number 25 Hanbury Street," the officer told him.

Tony tapped Gordon on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow. They made their way through the rows of chairs to get the unofficial third man of their team. "McGee… Hey. Psst," Tony quickly motioned for McGee to follow. He enthusiastically leapt to his feet and followed the other two. The silver haired man climbed to his feet and inconspicuously followed the three officers.

Lewis Roberts was a seasoned reporter. One who always had one eye on what was going around him. Some people thought he was the best in the business, and those people included Lewis. He was the man that informed the public and he took that responsibility very seriously. He had no doubts that the sudden exit of the three H-division police meant that there was something going on. So, there was no way he was going to hang around the inquest listening to testimonies that said the same thing.

Tony, Gordon and McGee waved down a horse and carriage. "Did you see that silver haired guy again?" Tony asked.

McGee piped up. "He actually followed us out. I think he took the carriage behind us," he assumed that the stranger was still following them.

Gordon looked around. "Looks like your friend noticed us leave as well," he couldn't help but smile. He didn't need to explain who the friend was. "Go faster," Gordon told the coach driver.

They held on tight as the coach picked up speed and almost toppled over as it turned the corner. "Take the next left and drop us off and keep going," Tony said. While they investigated the 25 Hanbury Street stains they didn't want to be disturbed by some strange onlooker. "McFollow, I want you to follow that silver haired man. Follow him but be careful," Tony warned. He and Gordon hid behind a wall as they watched the coach go by.

"We better go now," Gordon said as they began running to Hanbury Street.

They had a tough time trying to sidestep the oncoming coaches as well as the everyday traffic of people. But they both managed to make it there in one piece. "Hello. I'm Laura Sickings," An elderly woman introduced herself.

"You live here? You found the stain?" Tony said as he fought to catch his breath.

She pointed to the stain that was against the side of her house. And went on about what she thought the stain could be. Tony was reluctant but bent down and leaned forward to have for a closer examination. His nose twitched at the awful smell of it. "It's not blood," Tony straightened up.

"Your keen sense of smell?" Gordon asked him. He shook his head when he saw Lewis Roberts entering the area. "Oh God," Gordon said with annoyance.

"What ya two found there?" Lewis asked as he brought out his notebook. "Is that blood? Did ya find more blood here?" He asked them.

Tony snatched the notebook and flicked through it before handing it back. He wanted to check to make sure it wasn't his. "No this isn't blood," Tony responded.

"Are you sure? You're not -," Lewis asked with a certain amount of suspicion. He was sure they were withholding information that the public should know. "Hey!" Lewis cried out.

Tony had grabbed the back of the reporter's neck and forced his head to the stain. "Tony!" Gordon cried out.

"Smell it! Smell it, smell it," Tony said coldly. "Does it smell like blood to you?" He almost had the reporter's nose touching the dark stain. "Or does it smell like someone's pissed against the wall?" He asked. "It's a urine stain. Not blood," Tony let Lewis go. The man looked at him with such distaste before leaving.

**Commercial Police Station  
4 15 pm**

"Inspector Jethro Gibbs," Superintendant Thomas Arnold shook hands with the silver haired man sitting in front of him. "You've had time to inspect my men at work?" Thomas asked him.

"I needed to observe some goings on… It's better if I put together a team that can totally concentrate on solving the Leather Apron case," Gibbs said. He made sure to stay straight on target.

"Good idea… Do you have anyone in mind?" Arnold asked.

"Yes… Tony DiNozzo. His partner Gordon Cale and Police Constable Tim McGee," Gibbs began to say. There was a look of disapproval from the Superintendant. "What?" He asked.

"Now I understand you're one of the top Inspectors of Scotland Yard… But I can give you about twenty names off the top of my head that'd be better than Anthony DiNozzo and PC McGee is still young and lacks real experience," Thomas explained.

"I've made my choice," Gibbs stood up. "If you can't give me a real reason why I can't have these three men, then they're with me," Gibbs stated and Thomas just shrugged his shoulders. There was no reason that Thomas could think of really besides Tony's lack of discipline at times. Well most times really.

"Well for the duration of the Leather Apron Investigation they're yours," Thomas turned his palms up in defeat and waited for the Scotland Yard Inspector to leave his office.

---------------

Tony and Gordon walked into the Commercial Street station and found the McGee who was looking like a beaten dog with his tail between his legs. "What happened?" Tony asked the young PC.

"Well turns out the stranger is a Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Been staying at a Mrs. Piltcher residence since September the third. It's an address he usually stays whenever he visits the local area," McGee told him.

"You never cease to surprise Mc-Information," Tony said as he tapped McGee on the shoulder. "What else? Did you find out what he does?" He asked.

McGee nodded slowly. "Scotland Yard Inspector," McGee almost laughed at the sudden change of expressions of Tony and Gordon. They too had realized that they played cat and mouse with someone from Scotland Yard.

They saw the silver-haired blue-eyed Inspector walk towards them and almost snapped to attention. There was almost a stare down. "Look Sir… I can explain," Tony said emphatically.

"Never apologize," Gibbs said gruffly. "I'm Inspector Gibbs. You three. With me. Now," he spoke in clipped sentences. This caused the three to look at each other nervously. Surely their actions would bring on dire consequences. "You're my team. That means you belong to me. You take your orders from me and nobody else. If you have a problem tell me now and I can replace you," Gibbs told them.

"Yes Sir," Tony answered for the others.

"Do I look like a Knight to you?" Gibbs asked Tony when he spun around.

"Uh," Tony was about to say something but closed his mouth. How was he supposed to answer that and not say the wrong thing? Already it seemed like it was going to be tough working with a man that seemed drunk on his own power.

"No… I am not a knight and I haven't been Knighted by Queen Victoria. So don't call me Sir," Gibbs said harshly. He noted their unease which could be a good thing keeping the three on edge.

Tony, Gordon and McGee looked at each other and visibly swallowed. Of course they were used to having a tough boss. But this man was above their boss and looked like he could rule with a clenched fist. It was clear that Gibbs was a man who took leadership extremely seriously.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I haven't used the term Jack The Ripper yet... If you've all noticed. The name Jack the Ripper wasn't used until October 1888. Also I don't think I mentioned that H-Division refers to the group of police in charge of Whitechapel.**

**CHAPTER WARNING! Contains mention of sexual assault.**

**RIPPER'S LONDON 4  
13/09/1888  
Victims and Things just don't add up…**

They really thought that their temporary boss had been joking when he told them pull the files on some previous unsolved murders or attacks on women that could be victims of 'Leatherr Apron.' Gibbs had forbid them to use that term unless accompanied by the word murderer. Team Gibbs as they seemed to be referred to as now had been given free use of the large conference room. Gordon and McGee had cleared a room while Tony had brought in a couple of chalk boards.

That was when they began bringing boxes and boxes of papers from the archives and current investigations. This action had caused rumors and speculations from the others, especially the prospect of Mary Nichols not being the first victim of Leather Apron.

Gibbs almost smiled approvingly when he noted how quickly and without question the three had set things up. "Good," he took a sip of coffee from his cup. He thought there had to be an easier way to get a damn good coffee.

"You requested my presence?" Doctor Mallard walked into the room.

"Doctor Mallard?" Gibbs hadn't had a chance to meet all the key players yet.

"Please call me Ducky… You know I never really liked-," Ducky began to explain the reason he disliked the Doctor Mallard name.

"Alright… Ducky it is then. Take a seat over there Ducky," Gibbs said.

"Alright Inspector Gibbs," Ducky answered obediently. He knew who the man was since the Scotland Yard Inspector was the main topic of conversation from everyone at H-Division.

"Don't call me that. I am your boss, but I don't want you lot to put me above you. We're here for one reason and that is to bring in Leather Apron to face justice for what he's done," Gibbs responded.

"Alright Jethro," Ducky said.

"Good. Now. Let's start with the unsolved murders," Gibbs said as he pointed to Tony to begin.

"Emma Elizabeth Smith. Forty-five year old mother of two. Widow and Prostitute," Tony answered as he looked at the sketch of the victim. "Mrs. Smith, on her way home on April the third was stopped at the corner of Brick Lane and Wentworth Street. Where she was beaten, raped and according to her, she was raped by a blunted object and then robbed," Tony said.

"I heard about that one," Gordon added. "She walked to 18 George Street with her shoulder wrap in between her thighs," he said. He didn't work the case but it was talked about for a couple of weeks.

"She was rushed to London Hospital where she was able to give a vague description of the group who attacked her. But slipped into a coma and died as a result of her injuries four days after," Tony continued on.

"Fors," Gibbs prodded.

Ducky sat with the inquest reports and medical reports. "Well like Anne Chapman and Mary Nichols the vagina was brutalized," that was the only similarity he could think of. "That's where any similarities end. According to the reports there were no signs of the mutilations that accompanied Anne and Mary," Ducky responded.

"And the fact that there was more than one attacker," McGee said. That and he didn't feel the need to say that a knife wasn't used on the body.

"So…, We scratch her off the list. Next," Gibbs responded without missing a heartbeat.

"Martha Tabram otherwise known as Emma Turner. August 7. Just outside the George Yard Buildings," Tony said. There had been some argument between him and Gordon over the validity of this case being solved or unsolved. "Stabbed at least thirty nine times," Tony said.

"Well considering that the body wasn't mutilated and they were stab wounds and not cuts like the two… It's hard to even think about putting her on the list," Gordon argued. "Can't see any real reason why she'd be a victim," Gordon continued on.

"Well her murderer seemed intent on inflicting straightforward damage to vital organs. Such as the lungs and parts in the abdomen. Then again… The stabs could've been made by someone who was driven mad by rage. Whereas the murder of Mary and Annie was sickeningly deliberate," Ducky polished his glasses.

"What if Martha's murder was the one that got him started… Got the taste for mutilation started because of it," Tony suggested. He wasn't exactly sure why he thought about arguing the point. Maybe it was that damn Lewis who got that idea stuck in his head. It had at least warranted further investigation.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, there was definitely strong feelings on this one. Neither of them seemed to be willing to concede their belief. Perhaps for just that fact, they needed to look deeper into it. "We'll put Martha Tabram in the list as a possibility," Gibbs stated. "Right," he stuck the Martha photograph on the chalkboard, then did the same with Mary Nichols and Annie Chapman's photographs.

"Testimonies at the inquest," Gibbs raised the chalk. "Now what did the witnesses say?" Gibbs asked.

Everything was pretty much straightforward. That was beside the fact that that the murder was still unsolved. But there were no controversial conflicting eyewitness accounts that seemed to accompany the Annie Chapman murder. "Elisabeth sees someone talking with Annie Chapman as the clock strikes half past five and she hears the man ask 'will you?' and the Annie said yes," Tony explained. "With in a couple of minutes, Albert from number 27 was outside… He heard a woman yell no and then there was a sound of something falling against the fence… But didn't see anything because the fence was in the way," Tony told the story as they had it so far.

"What makes them so sure of the time they heard what was going on?" Gibbs asked them. The times that they said were so exact.

"Well… Elisabeth said she heard the clock ring half five," Gordon continued on. "While Albert saw the clock face reading two past half five the second time he was outside," he continued on while looking through the notes.

"Right… Is it at all possible that Elisabeth Smith could have heard the five fifteen bell?" Gibbs asked.

"Well considering the echoing effect caused by the houses and the area and take into account that there was someone talking. That added to that she may have tried to hurry passed, therefore her feet could have been hitting the ground harder," McGee answered.

"Point, McGee," Gibbs snapped. He was getting tired and McGee's elongated answer was starting to get on his nerves.

"Uh, yeah, it is possible and could be likely that it was indeed the quarter past bell she heard," McGee quickly gave the positive answer.

"There is still one more discrepancy," Ducky said as it looked like they were going onto the next lot of papers. "The time of death or Annie Chapman is more around the four thirty mark," Ducky told them. "There's actually no way she was alive at half past five or quarter past five," he said.

"What are you saying?" Gibbs asked as he rubbed his face. He needed coffee and needed it fast if this was going to keep going.

"That Elisabeth Long could have been looking at a dead victim at that time," Ducky answered solemnly. "Say, that the killer was doing his work and he heard someone approaching. So… He holds Elisabeth up with an arm around her shoulder so that it'd be unseen by the passerby," Ducky waited for the others to say something about this theory.

"But she heard them talking," McGee said quickly.

"Did she hear them talking? Or just the killer talking? For instance…," Ducky paused for a moment. "Will you?" He asked in his normal voice. "Yes," he then answered him self in higher pitched feminine voice. "See how easy it would be," Ducky responded.

"So you're saying, that he hung around Hanbury Street for an hour with a dead prostitute?" Gibbs asked. He wondered what kind of sick person could do such a thing. Not even his years in Scotland Yard prepared him for Whitechapel.

"We were there at Hanbury Street just after the body was discovered. It's more than speculation that Annie did not meet her demise at that location," Ducky said as the others nodded their head in agreement.

"So…, Where was she murdered then?" Gibbs asked. It was a stupid question, if it was known, then it would've been mentioned in the reports. There weren't any reports of unexplained pools of blood anywhere. Surely, those types of injuries would cause a damn lot of blood to be spilled. And someone would've raised the alarm. Since it had been all quiet in that respect, then the place they were looking for was still around somewhere.

"That's the hundred pound question," Tony said as he leaned back in the chair.

"What we need to do is trace the footsteps of Annie Chapman and Nichols…, Also to have a talk with people that might have known them," Gibbs said as he clapped his hands causing the others to almost snap to attention.

"There's one person that could help with knowing them," Tony smiled in the direction of Gordon.

"Missy A," Gordon turned his head sideways to look at Tony and they both smiled.

"Alright…," Gibbs stood up. "DiNozzo and I will see this Missy A… Gordon and you McGee, I want you two to trace back the last known whereabouts of Mary and Annie," he told them. "Duck… I understand you're testifying at the inquest in a couple of days… I know this is asking too much, but I need you to draw attention of the press off us for as long as possible…," Gibbs said to the Doctor.

"I'll do what I can Jethro," Ducky responded affirmatively.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs raised his voice. "With me. Now," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir," Tony responded automatically. That earned him a tap on the shoulder and a death glare that made Tony freeze. "Calling you by your name just doesn't feel right," Tony explained.

"I'm your current boss, DiNozzo. But I will not consider myself a superior person. Do NOT call me sir again… Do I make myself clear, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, Boss," Tony said. The older man had referred him self as their boss a couple of times. So calling him Boss seemed to fit in extremely well. And there was no negative reaction from Gibbs when he did so.

**The Prince Albert  
(The Pub)**

Even though it was early evening by the time Gibbs and Tony walked into The Prince Albert, it was full of patrons who were eager to spend their earnings on drink or other things that may take their fancy. Their presence was acknowledged with silence. A moment later, everyone continued on with their own conversations.

"What can I get for you, Gentlemen?" The man behind the bar asked them.

"We're here to see Missy. Is she upstairs?" Tony asked directly. He got a nod in return. Gibbs and Tony made their way through the smoke-filled room and climbed the stairs to the second floor. "I have to say something about this one… Warn you I guess. Missy A is a contradiction in terms, wrapped in an enigma… Really the cleanest, most law-abiding whore you'd ever meet," Tony explained as he knocked on the door and waited.

"Tony!" The thick black haired lady answered. "Hey there. Come in," she greeted Gibbs. Tony couldn't help but smile when he noticed the boots that Missy was wearing. Her boots went halfway up her legs and he wondered if Abby always wore dresses that were way too short. Her hair was usually tied up but at the moment the hair just naturally hung down to her shoulders. He quickly turned his attention away when Missy turned around. "This a new friend Tony?" Missy said.

"No… I mean, not really," Tony said as he tried not to trip over his own words. Tony was very experienced with women but Missy A seemed to always have a peculiar effect on him.

"Oh I see. A client then? You willin' to pay for a good time Mistah… I can show ya things I know ya can only dream of," Missy said to Gibbs. She emphasized the common sounding accent. Making it sound thick and faked.

"Missy this is…," Tony was exasperated that she thought the Scotland Yard Inspector was a prospective client. He wasn't too sure what the backlash could be for him or for Missy.

"DiNozzo… Perhaps we should introduce you to her properly… This is Abigail Scuito. Our eyes and ears on the street. Not in our employ, but someone who gives us certain information when we need it," Gibbs stated as the two hugged.

"Been awhile, Gibbs," Abigail said.

Tony's jaw had dropped in shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Well he definitely had Missy pegged wrong. That would make him a laughing stock. "Aren't you going to say something, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"You two know each other?" Tony asked. Tony was so surprised about what had transpired he didn't see Gibbs raise his hand but he felt the pain of the hand hitting the back of his head. "Thanks I need that. Of course you know each other," Tony said, snapping out of the shock. He had lived in Whitechapel for near on three years and it was still surprising him with twists and turns.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ripper's London Chapter 5  
Innocence, Accusations and Effects**

**13/09/1888-17/09/1888 Overview**

Gibbs watched Tony sleep in the chair in the conference room. He actually wondered if the young man had any family to talk with. In the few days he had never mentioned anyone. Even though it was unsaid, Gibbs was almost a hundred percent certain that Tony's father was the same DiNozzo that ran the Gazette. Maybe that could come in handy.

PC McGee had mentioned a sister and a girlfriend on the odd occasion. Gordon Cale talked a lot about his wife and child, increasingly over the last few days. The Leather Apron Murders investigators had already alienated half of H-Division when they released suspect John Pizer. Tony and McGee dug up the neighbor's dead dog that was buried in the John's yard. And the bloodied knife that caused suspicion against him was covered in animal blood… But to be a hundred percent certain, McGee had double and triple checked the man's alibi.

On August 30, a fire broke out at the Shadwell Dry Dock. The fire had burned well past the time that Mary Nichols was murdered. Several witness recall seeing a man that resembled John Pizer beyond a doubt which proved his alibi of watching the dock fire.

If that was the only problem, things wouldn't be so bad. Another suspect… Jacob Issenchmid, a German immigrant who was arrested on the eleventh in suspicion of being the Leather Apron murderer because he was seen with bloodied hands and apron. Whether it was a pre-existing mental condition or maybe torture from other officers… Jacob went mad, it took three men to stop the burley Jacob from trying to hammer down a hall with his head. There seemed to be no one contributing factor pointing to the reason. Only today, did Gibbs inform the press that Suspect Jacob Issenchmid had been admitted to Fairfield Row Asylum.

An Edward McKenna was brought in by the so called Vigilance Committee for getting physical with a prostitute in the early morning of the thirteenth. McKenna had an alibi and therefore couldn't be the killer. Things in Commercial Street Station almost turned physical and there was an uproar from the Committee but eventually the noisy protests of one George Lusk was quashed.

The inquests weren't going anywhere… Annie Chapman was now in the ground and there was a major wedge between H-Division and the team investigating the Leather Apron Murders. Gibbs scoffed as he thought about matters. Things couldn't get worse.

He saw the younger man shiver a bit as his body tried to get warm. Gibbs quietly moved over to Tony and placed his large coat over his body. The leg work that needed to be done was unrivalled and there was no end in sight. They needed a bit of luck. Something had to go their way eventually. It was also fortunate that Ducky's testimony was able to draw a lot of press attention. But he was beginning to feel things weren't going right. Abby had given them some information about Chapman and Nichols but none others. She said she couldn't betray any of the others by talking about them to the police. But she told them in her own way that she'd keep her ears to the ground and watch for any suspicious men.

Gibbs thought about the team he had put together. It was mainly their reaction to the reward money being offered. And it was obvious that these guys worked as a team already. That seemed to put them above any other choice. Even though it had only been a week since they started, it was obvious they weren't the normal type of Police. DiNozzo, apparently had his connections to several groups. Gordon's words were a little inappropriate at times but it didn't stop him from doing the job. McGee knew where to get information and it wasn't unusual to catch him with his head in a book during breaks. Ducky was a different type of person altogether. He was something in between old school and a new breed. Anything could be traced back to a story in Edinburgh and the old Doctor wasn't shy about relaying the stories.

Gibbs took a drink of coffee. It wasn't Scotland Yard coffee but at least it wasn't the tea they served here. He frowned as he realized the hot beverage had turned cold and undrinkable.

**18/09/1888  
6 30 pm**

Even though Whitechapel had been tainted with two gruesome murders within three weeks of each other didn't deter the prostitutes. For whatever reason, that hadn't changed. Outwardly appearance almost showed that complacency had taken over. That was further from the truth. The time was ripe for Men who knew how to fight to make a good living as Whore-guards. These are the men that wait in the shadows and keep an eye on proceedings. But of course, these caused even more problems as the accusations of the Leather Apron increased.

Alexander Freinberg walked around near the coffee stall. For the next hour, his fists were rented out as Elizabeth Burns' Whore-Guard. It was an unflattering term, but the whore handler was willing to pay to protect their goods. Alexander rubbed his freshly shaven face and pondered how the Whore business was almost good for everybody.

Alexander was a small man but was proficient in fighting. He kept an ear out on Elizabeth Burns and her client. He would only react if things sounded like they were getting out of hand. But it didn't take too much for someone to raise the alarm. That was what caused some things to be handled privately.

Charles Ludwig, the client, never had any problems with forking out a lot of money for services. Therefore believed that he was entitled to that bit extra. He never believed there was anything wrong with rough sex with a whore. After all, he paid for Elizabeth Burns.

"No," Elizabeth Burns almost yelled out as she smacked away the hand that had unbuttoned her top and his hands caressed her body, traveling downwards as his other hand attempted to pin her against the wall.

"Come on, you filthy whore. I paid for ya... What gives you the right to suddenly say no?" He said into her ear as he kissed her neck and thrust his lower body against hers with one jolt.

Elizabeth Burns understood that men could get violent if they felt any rejection from a Prostitute. She managed to get her hand free and slapped the man hard across the face. In one foul swoop, he produced a knife. "I'll cut you down where you stand, you filthy whore," he said.

Elizabeth screamed. "Leather Apron!" She managed to get out before the man ran off. She knew that screaming assault, rape or murder probably would've brought on no attention. But using the term Leather Apron, would bring in reward hunters.

Since the danger to Elizabeth had passed, Alexander was under no obligation to do anything further but the reward was too much of an opportunity to ignore. The mistake was drawing attention to him self before getting the chance to tackle Ludwig. Alexander was knocked to the ground hard and as soon as he climbed to his feet he could feel the point of a cold steel blade against his throat.

"Make one more move and I'll bleed you out like a pig," Charles warned him. "Good," he said and when he was satisfied that there was enough room to make a getaway. He ran away.

Alexander made sure to note where Charles Ludwig had run off to. He knew the streets well, especially during the night. After waiting for a suitable amount of time, he ran in the same direction. As did a couple of others that had heard the commotion going on.

**Commercial Street Police Station  
19/09/1888**

Gibbs wasn't sure how it happened but the usually quiet Station was once again busy with activity. That happened a lot since there was a serial killer on the streets. It seemed everybody was bringing in a suspect to the police station. He secretly hoped that the public would somehow luck into finding the killer. Though he doubted it.

"What the hell's going on?" Gibbs asked the group of people hanging around the desk.

"Hey, Boss," Tony greeted cheerfully. "These people here...,"

"We've caught Leather Apron here for you," Alexander said as they shoved the bloodied man into the desk. His protests were drowned out by the exuberant cheers from his captors.

"What happened to his face?" Gibbs asked without hiding his accusing tone. The man known as Charles Ludwig had a cut beneath the eye, a bruised cheek and a busted lip.

"The man here fell down as he was trying to escape," someone unseen told them. "He went at a prostitute with a knife and then threatened Alex here with it," he continued on.

"Hand it over," Tony told them.

"What?" It was impossible to see who was talking amongst the ever growing crowd of people that had formed.

"The knife… We need the knife," Tony wanted to see if the knife could possibly be the same one that was used in the previous murders. It could clear him or convict him. Either way, any evidence was welcomed. There was even more murmuring around the crowd but there was no knife produced. "Without the knife or any evidence that he's the Leather Apron we can't do much. However, we'll look into it and question him," Tony said. He knew that most of the people were hungry for the reward.

"He was about to attack a woman… With a knife!" Alexander said. He made sure that the police understood what was going on.

"We'll question him," Tony raised his voice slightly. "But if we said that everybody who's been accused is guilty then we'll have half of Whitechapel locked up," Tony told them. He assumed that they'd be pointing the finger until eventually they found their scapegoat. That was all well and good if the murders didn't continue.

"If we…," someone tried to say.

"If you let us do our jobs we'll be able to catch the Leather Apron Murderer instead of questioning everybody that anybody brings in!" Gordon raised his voice further. "Now! Let us question him and let us do our jobs!" He said angrily.

"Fat lot of good that's done us so far you lot," Lusk's voice seemed to come out of nowhere. "Even the great Scotland Yard Inspector is baffled," Lusk said to everyone else.

"Now listen here," Gordon interrupted. "You think you could solve this case? How about I pin a badge on you and a uniform. Then we'll see what you're really made of. How about we see how far you can get?" Gordon asked him.

"I'd rather not be associated with you. The vigilance committee has done more for Whitechapel than the Metropolitan Police has ever done," Lusk said. He always believed that it was the common people who did the greater good. Not these jesters in uniform.

"Oh the vigilantes. Just what we need," Gordon smirked.

"We have done more to keep the streets safe," Lusk defended the committee and he'd keep on doing so.

"Have you caught the killer?" Gordon looked at Lusk's dark eyes.

"We're doing the…," Lusk began to say.

"HAVE YOU CAUGHT THE KILLER?!" Gordon's whole head shook as he screamed out the words. Those very words traveled through the station and brought it to a stand still. Gordon wasn't sure how the president of the Vigilance Committee managed to anger him so quickly. Basically, he just wanted to hurt somebody.

"No," Lusk answered simply. But he was sure that it'd be only a matter of time.

"Then get yourself and your group out of here before I drag you to a cell so fast your feet will catch fire," Gordon threatened. Fortunately, the crowd dispersed, but not before muttering a few choice words. There was no finessing out of this situation. The only thing the shouting match resolved was built up anger.

"Settle down," Gibbs said to Gordon who looked like he was going to blow up at anyone who crossed his path. "Take a walk and get your head on right," he took Charles Ludwig into the cell that he interrogated all the Leather Apron Murderer suspects. The list of suspects seemed to be getting nowhere.

**Working Lad's Institute  
Wild Accusations**

Baxter looked at the people that had entered the hall. Due to the graphic testimony given by Doctor Mallard, attendance to the inquest had increased dramatically. It got to the point where they had to close the doors to turn people away. "Tell me Doctor Mallard… Was there anything missing from the body?" Baxter asked Ducky, who had just finished reading out the gruesome details of the injuries inflicted on Annie Chapman.

"The uterus was removed," Ducky answered flatly. He had seen many cut up bodies to not allow the details to phase him. "One school of thought is that the uterus had been removed to sell to Medical Institutions," Ducky said.

"Do you believe that this could only be achieved with extensive medical knowledge?" Baxter asked the Doctor.

"Maybe not surgical knowledge but definitely knowledgeable in anatomy," Ducky answered and waited for the next question.

"Could you have performed the mutilation on the body?" Baxter asked directly.

For a moment, Ducky thought about lying. Not to do so would make him self look guilty. But there were ethics to live up to. "Yes I could have," Ducky responded without showing anybody any emotion.

"Is there anything else you can tell us, Doctor Mallard?" Baxter asked Ducky. He would have had reason to question the Doctor if he had acted more defensively.

"Well the stabbing and cuts are predominantly performed with the left hand," Ducky answered. "However, there is sufficient evidence that the murderer is proficient with in using the left and right hand," Ducky explained.

"Thank you, Doctor Mallard," Baxter said. "Next… Is Anthony DiNozzo Junior here?" The name caused people to begin talking amongst themselves. Tony was no stranger to this kind of talk. Little did the public know that the father and son didn't talk at all. That charade was kept when the two were at public events. "State your name for the record," Baxter asked.

"Tony DiNozzo of the Metropolitan Police," Tony answered.

"State your full name," Baxter responded.

Tony sighed slightly. He should've known that in the first place. "Anthony DiPerna DiNozzo junior," Tony answered. He always wanted that little bit of fame, but not because of his last name. Otherwise he'd never have joined the police.

"You are with the officers who are in charge of catching 'Leather Apron' along with Police Constable Timothy McGee, Gordon Cale and Scotland Yard Inspector Leroy Jethro Gibbs aren't you?" Baxter adjusted his glasses as he read through the notes. Often during murder inquests the Police themselves are often scrutinized or even accused of committing the crimes. But again, they had to tread carefully… He had been informed about the DiNozzo-link. "What are your personal thoughts on them?" Baxter asked. The fact finding questions had all been asked.

"Gibbs is a thorough investigator who doesn't cut corners. He demands the best out of his men. PC McGee… Young, inexperience but eager to please. Talented at many aspects of finding people. Gordon Cale… Great member of the team. Dedicated to finding out the truth, friendly… Understanding," Tony answered without thinking.

"You have on occasion witnessed Gordon Cale's anger?" Baxter asked.

News always spread like fire in Whitechapel. "Yes… He has on occasion lashed out when provoked," Tony responded truthfully. He couldn't not tell the truth. He gave an apologetic look over to Gordon. It felt like betrayal.

"Over the past two to three months has Gordon Cale's demeanor changed?" Baxter asked.

"What do you mean?" Tony shot back quickly. He was under oath but needed to know what the Coroner wanted before volunteering unnecessary information.

"Has there been in dramatic change in Gordon's personality?" Baxter asked.

Tony stayed silent for a bit. "He's been a lot nicer to some people. But nothing dramatic as you're suggesting. Over time, he's become more family orientated," Tony said eventually.

"How about his anger?" Baxter asked him.

"He's always had a short fuse. Especially when people like Mister Lusk over there do their utmost to hinder an investigation," Tony pointed to the man standing at the back of the hall. It was apparent that the coroner was out to corroborate what he had heard.

"Have you been with him at the time of any of the murders? If not… Do you know of any alibis?" Baxter pressed on with the questions.

"I have not been with him at those times nor have I asked him for an alibi. I have no reason to suspect Gordon in any way," Tony said. He never thought about his friend being a suspect. The thought of the Leather Apron Murderer being part of the Police had never crossed his mind until now.

"How did Gordon Cale react when he saw the bodies?" Baxter asked as he wrote down some notes.

"He was nonchalant. But that's how he always is. He has a nonchalant attitude so he doesn't let things…," Tony was quickly cut off.

"Could he have performed the injuries found on the victims?" Baxter asked.

"No… No…," Tony shook his head. "He has no medical knowledge," he gave his reason.

Baxter checked through some of the papers on the desk. "You were away for two months at the beginning of the year… Is it possible that Gordon acquired medical knowledge in your absence?" He asked.

"It is possible but unlikely. Gordon tells me everything… From what he had for dinner to every person he sees on the street. He'd never keep that secret," Tony responded.

"So you do think that that's a possibility?" Baxter pressed once more.

"Yes," Tony bowed his head.

"That will be all," Baxter dismissed Tony once he had finished writing something down again. He to was finding that the investigation seemed to be going around in circles and the interested parties seemed to be tripping over themselves to solve the murders. Usually that would be a good thing, except they each wanted to catch the killer for their own personal gain... And that could be dangerous.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ripper's London**

**(Fall – Out)**

**19/09/1888 Continued  
A/N: Sorry, just so much information. Had to split this date. Darn September 1888 in Whitechapel was one busy month. Thanks to those reading this story still. Hope you're somewhat entertained and educated.**

* * *

**'**Yes it's possible' those words echoed through Tony's head as if he was still saying them. He couldn't believe that he'd just dumped his friend deep. _What was I thinking?_ It wasn't possible, but he could read the accusing faces of all the people in the station. It'd only be a matter of hours until the looks would become a reality. Tony was never a popular one in H-division but things were about to get worse. He got the sudden urge to get out of there. An urge to run. He grabbed a couple of things and headed straight out of the Commercial Street Police Station. He had to get away from those accusing eyes.

McGee was about to say something but was unable to. Half an hour later, Gordon briskly walked into the station. "Uh, Gordon…," McGee went to say something.

"Where'd Tony go?" Gordon asked as he noticed that their office was empty. "Well?" Gordon asked.

"Uh, he left about half an hour ago," McGee checked his timepiece. "Really I must," McGee found him self talking to someone's back once again. He shook his head and returned to where the visitor was sitting. "I'm sorry Mister Lees… It's been hectic here today," he extended his hand.

"Yes," Lees rubbed his thick blonde hair. "Forgive me… I tend to not shake hands. Tell the Scotland Yard Inspector that I, Robert Lees will be seeing him again. He has more than likely heard of me. But he mustn't dismiss me. It's imperative for him to listen to me," Lees continued in a worrying tone.

"When shall I say you're coming again?" McGee asked so he could write it down.

"There's always two… Every coin has two sides. Hell has not descended upon Whitechapel," Lees put his dark gloves on before finally shaking hands. "until then, PC McGee," Lees said as he donned his top hat. McGee watched him leave with more of a confused look. There was something different about Robert Lees.

**20/09/1888  
Commercial Street Police Station**

Tony deliberately got to the station early. They hadn't even lit up the street lamps yet. He was there to avoid any person that might have been there. Last night he had spent the night in the darkest dankest room in the Ten Bells Pub. That was so nobody could find him there. When he went home to change he wasn't surprised to find a copy of The Gazette waiting for him at his door. He was sure it was courtesy of his father since the man was intent on reminding him of all his failures. This time, he didn't need reminding. Tony flung the paper across the desk and went to clear his things.

"What are you doing?" The gruff voice in the darkness asked.

"I'm leaving… Haven't you read this?" Tony slapped the paper and pointed out the article.

"Yes," Gibbs answered simply. He had read the article.

"Then don't worry you can say what you want to say while I gather my things. So say what you want to say," Tony said as he gathered his belongings together. Not like he had much around anyway. He knew the dressing down was coming.

Gibbs stood up. McGee had told him what had transpired the previous day since Gordon had told him what had happened. There was talk circulating around the station and that could be damaging. Gibbs couldn't blame the young man for wanting to get out of there before things went to hell. He looked through the article again…

H-Division Police Accuses Another  
_Dissention in the ranks of H-Division is clearly shown as Anthony DiNozzo junior points out fellow colleague Gordon Cale at Annie Chapman's Inquest. H-Division losing control as the possibility of one who has sworn to protect the public could be Leather Apron._

The paper ended up in the bin. "Did you accuse Gordon of being the Leather Apron Murderer?" Gibbs asked.

Had he? Tony tried to think back over the testimony he'd given at the Inquest. Maybe he didn't say it in so many words but he made Gordon look like a suspect. Surely that was just as bad. "I made him look like he could be," Tony answered.

"But you didn't say you think he could be the Leather Apron Murderer, did you?" Gibbs pressed on.

"Not in so many words," Tony sighed. He wondered if anyone else would see it that way. But there was doubt in his own words. Accusing a colleague could be unforgivable.

"You did the right thing," Gibbs squeezed the shoulder of Tony and was surprised to see the younger man flinch and step back. "You didn't lie to them, you didn't accuse him and they drew their own conclusion. You did what you should have done," Gibbs assured the doubtful young man.

"I doubt that Gordon or anyone else will see it like that," Tony always believed in taking responsibility for his mistakes. That was something his father had drummed into him when he was a child. He who doesn't hold him self accountable is worthless. That's what his father always said.

"If…," Gibbs began to say.

"Don't say that if he's a friend he'd understand. What I did was…," Tony held up his finger to silence the inspector. Gordon was going to kill him as soon as the opportunity arose. Tony swallowed hard, all he wanted to do was hide in a dark corner and leave under the cover of darkness.

"Grab your gear," Gibbs growled out. The order made Tony jump a little.

"Yes, Boss," Tony replied straight away.

**Late at Night**

Tony was thankful that their four-man team had been split in two. He and Gibbs had been out interviewing more witnesses and canvassing the now useless murder scenes. Any evidence that may have been missed before was either trodden into the ground of picked up by passer byers. He thought that within a year, the murders would be forgotten especially counting for the fact that there was no evidence that lead to anyone being the killer. Tony closed his notebook. There had been no more useful information retrieved.

"We've canvassed the area within a mile radius of the Chapman and Nichols site," McGee said as soon as they entered the office. "We've visited every house of every doctor, every butcher and every veterinarian in that radius. Nothing there to suggest any of them to be the initial murder scene," McGee explained.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked as he sat down on a chair on the other side of the room.

"There was no bloodied rooms, no overly too clean rooms. No signs of struggling, no bad relationships and no connection to the victims that we are aware of and apparently no reason to lie to us," Gordon interrupted. He sat on the edge of the desk.

"That's the known doctors…," Gibbs rubbed his lips as he paced around. His mind was ticking over. "What about if this guy isn't a doctor or surgeon… But a student… One who is training to be one or just plain wants to be one?" Gibbs asked.

"Can you give us two some time alone?" Gordon asked as he looked over in Tony's direction. It was visible that Tony shifted uncomfortably. Gibbs and McGee nodded before leaving. "Now," Gordon adjusted his jacket as he stood.

Tony sat in the chair as far as he possibly could. He thought that maybe if he sat still, the retaliation wouldn't be as severe. "I know what you're going to say Gordon. I was…," Tony used his hands to try and communicate as well.

"You were doing what you should've done," Gordon told him. "You know and I know that we are held high above the general population. I would've been mad as hell if you lied. If they feel like they can't trust us around here then everything will crumble. You did the right thing," Gordon said.

"Yeah right… I doubt anyone else is going to see it that way," Tony said as he stood up. At least he knew that the danger of retaliation had passed.

"You should know by now that people will react depending on how you act by now," Gordon smiled reassuringly.

"Gordon… I think you've been hanging around Doctor Mallard too long," Tony said with a smile.

"Ain't that the truth Tones," Gordon smiled and held it until Tony returned it with one of his own bright smile. He had hoped that his friend had taken notice of his words. At times, Tony DiNozzo was near impossible to read.

**22/09/1888 – Saturday Night Theatre  
Whitechapel's Famous Guests**

There was one bonus to being the son of the rich and famous newspaper man and that was the ability to get tickets to shows coming up. Gibbs had gone to report the progress or lack thereof to his superior. To clear their heads, they were given the time off. Tony had no problems with the others but it felt damn good to get away from them even if it was just for a night.

Tony dressed in his favorite suit with a top hat and all. It wasn't every day that a play of Jekyll and Hyde's caliber came this far east. He was surprised to see the crowd had gathered there already and wondered why the crowd hadn't gone in yet. They all seemed to be eagerly waiting for something. "Hey, Tony," Tony turned around at his name and saw Missy A approaching in her usual exuberant way.

"A," Tony greeted back. She looked better without wearing black.

"You can call me Abby now that you know who I am. Hey, I was wondering if you were going to come tonight," Abby said as she curtsied a slightly. Her green dress just stopped short of the ground. Dressed as she was, Abby looked like a real lady.

"First chance and maybe the last," Tony said cryptically. He was going to make the most of it at least.

The sound of hooves hitting the road as a black carriage came to an abrupt halt at the theatre. Tony's breathing momentarily stopped as he recognized the Royal crest on its side. As a child, Tony was taught about different symbols of power. He was taught what and who to respect.

"It's Prince Albert Victor," someone in the crowd gasped.

Tony had heard rumors about the young prince and how he often visited Whitechapel and its whores. But he had never seen him in person. The son of Queen Victoria was pale and walked funny. Tony noted this as a flash went off. Of course the press would be there to document the famous arrival.

"Wonder what he's doing here," Tony thought out loud. It was good to bounce his thoughts off someone. Missy A, was good at helping him make sense at times.

"He comes to Whitechapel often," Abby said as she straightened her dress. Tony was glad to see her out and about in expensive clothes… She wasn't Missy A for that night.

Tony caught the mischievous tone in her voice. She had always been knowledgeable about certain goings on. "Was he a client of yours, Missy?" Tony asked. He felt her hand slap his shoulder.

"Mister DiNozzo," she admonished jokingly. "It's Abby, Abs anything but Abigail and enough of Missy A, Missy or even A," Abby told him. "I really hope you don't see me as some type of two-shilling whore and that's all," Abby continued on.

"Sorry," Tony responded defensively. That was a problem, he never saw her that way. But the fact that she was a whore couldn't be ignored. After the royal guest was ushered in, it was time for everyone else to take their seats.

To say that the Shakespearian actor Richard Mansfield had the audience manipulated was an understatement. He had members gasping, women screaming and even a couple literally ran when Doctor Jekyll began his transformation into Mister Hyde. It was like a different person had come on stage. The normal, respectable Doctor Jekyll had turned into a demented, twisted monster known as Mister Hyde right before the audience's eyes. Even the potion seemed alive, deadly and brought out the monster within.

Tony was unable to give his full attention to the play. He was looking at the audience. He looked up at the balcony that housed the Royal guest and his friends. Prince Albert was entranced in the play as well. Occasionally, he put his small binoculars down as a way to escape the horror on stage. Tony wondered why the young Royal decided to come here rather than seeing it in a more upper class theater.

**Gordon Cale Residence**

For a long time the only thing that was of interest to Gordon was the roof. He could tell people how many cracks there was or how many marks were up there. He felt Penelope's arm drape her arm across his naked chest. The only things she knew about the Leather Apron killings was what she had read in the papers. Gordon didn't talk much about it at all.

"Are you alright? You've hardly said a word since you got home," Penelope said to him as she massaged his chest.

"I want to have another child. A boy especially," Gordon let out an elongated sigh. That's what he wanted. For a while now, in between the thoughts of the case, he wanted children. The fact was, was that he felt he needed them. Well a son anyway. But they had never seriously talked about that.

"Where did that come from?" Penelope asked.

"If you don't want to… You can just say so. I'll understand perfectly," Gordon answered, somewhat absently.

"I didn't say that," Penelope responded. "It just took me by surprise that's all," she told him. "I just don't know about bringing a baby child into this," she said. Her mind was still on the horrors of the murders.

"Penelope… With Police on alert, a vigilance committee patrolling the streets… Whitechapel's probably the safest place in the world for a family," Gordon responded. He truly believed that with everything going on… It'd be a perfect time to start a family.

"I don't know," Penelope rested her head on Gordon's chest. The subject was promptly dropped with the following silence.

**McGees' Residence**

McGee sat on the chair and faced the window. It felt great to be off his feet but he couldn't get the case off his mind. The why and who questions ran through his mind as he looked out the window. He wondered if the killer even knew why. There have been some new advances coming through in the last decade or so. He'd been keeping an eye out on the phonograph and this new light thing. But it seemed the further away from the case his mind wandered, the case drew his attention back.

"Thanks, Sarah," McGee said as he took the tin cup from his sister's hands. He needed something hot to drink. Living with one's sister had its advantages. There was that personal comfort that family could provide but there were no strings attached. He wondered if things got serious with Linda if that would change. Maybe it will or maybe it won't. Maybe it'd be for the better… Maybe it won't. Or maybe things were destined to stay the same.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sarah asked. She was younger than her brother but their roles seemed to reverse if the situation called for it.

"Just enjoying some quiet time," McGee answered. He didn't want to speak on how he was trying to string theories together. Right now, he was clutching at straws. There had to be something to connect the two. And if he could just put his finger on it, then the case could be broken wide open.

**Doctor Mallard House**

Donald spent a lot of time in his study. There was always something new to learn or something he needed to check up on facts. The medical profession was a forever changing field. He wasn't afraid of giving books away once they had become obsolete. And it was no surprise that most of his books came from Scotland. Medicine had moved in leaps and bounds and Ducky was pleased that he was able to keep up to date.

He had never considered him self an expert on performing autopsies. But knew he was really good at what he did. It wasn't just about figuring out how they died but why they had died that way. He assumed that he was really an investigator at heart. Maybe he was. "Wasn't it William Shakespeare who said a rose by any other name is still a rose?" He asked him self. He never saw his title as important since no title should overshadow the work one does. That's what Ducky always thought and that's why he hated being called by his title.

Ducky pulled out his personal journal and pulled out the ink bottle to write. This was his personal touch with the journal. There were things he needed to think about and writing them was the easiest way.

**Exposing Filth  
Theory 1**

_It can not be too much of a surprise that two victims were prostitutes. It is commonly estimated that the number of them working in London is approximately 6000. I doubt that it is by luck that the Leather Apron Murderer murdered prostitutes. I believe this is apparent in the manner that these poor women were killed. The man responsible was personal in his malicious attack._

_The intestines are part of digestion. Human waste goes through the intestine on the way out of the body. The fact that they were placed on the outside of Chapman's body could be significant. Maybe the killer is trying to expose the filth of the women and put it in the public eye. This was not done for Nichols however. This makes me wonder if the murderer is trying to tell us something. Has he said what he wanted to say or is there something left?  
Doctor Donald Mallard_  
**_22-09-1888_**

He left the journal open as to give the ink a chance to dry. He blew out the lamp and went to get changed. Maybe the next few days will bring something new. One could always help.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ripper's London**

**30 – 09 – 1888**

With the inquests into Annie Chapman and Mary Nichols completed and not discovering anything remotely close to the killer, the trail was going cold once again. The murderer was good and didn't leave any clues whatsoever to his identity. The press was beginning to turn on the authorities much to the dismay of the police. Everyday a new suspect was named and every other day a suspect was released.

**DUTFIELD'S YARD  
1 30 AM approximate**

Ducky had finished the preliminary examination of the body before Gibbs and McGee showed up. "Whatcha got for us, Duck?" Gibbs asked as soon as they came into earshot. They were breathing heavy because of the run they had to make.

"One dead female. Cause of Death appears to be a cut throat," Ducky told Gibbs as another member of H-Division shone the lamp over the bloodied throat.

"Time of Death?" Gibbs asked as McGee went to question the man who came across the body.

"I'd say about half an hour. It can't be much more than that," Ducky answered. "Louis Diemshutz stated that he found her just after one," he shone the light on the body. "Unfortunately, I done all I can here."

McGee rubbed his hands together as he spoke. It was cold that's for sure. "Louis Diemshutz said that he was riding into Dutfield's Yard when the horses refused to go in. He thought that maybe there was something blocking the way. He shone a lamp into the area and came across the body of Elizabeth Stride," McGee explained.

"The blood is still wet," Gibbs responded. "He must've just missed the killer by minutes," he said.

"Inspector Gibbs! Inspector Gibbs!" A voice echoed through the darkness.

It was clear who the voice belonged to. Mister Lusk approached Dutfield's Yard with a large group of men. "Lusk," Gibbs spat out. He was the last person they needed to see. The vigilante committee as Gibbs dubbed them.

"Another murder. Not even Scotland Yard can keep Whitechapel safe," Lusk said as he rallied the mob of men near him. This other murder was proof of how the police have had control. It was now up to the people to do what the police couldn't. Bring back order and peace to the streets.

"And where were you Mister Lusk?" Gibbs asked as he looked the man in the eye.

"You're accusing me?" Lusk asked. "You are desperate. I've got twenty witnesses who were with me all night," he almost laughed.

"No Mister Lusk. Not at all. You're out patrolling the streets. You complain about us not keeping the streets safe. Here you lot are walking around the streets saying you want to keep the streets safe but you've done nothing," Gibbs challenged the Vigilance Committee Leader.

"We have brought in more suspects than you…," Lusk responded.

"Which have led us nowhere," Gibbs told him. They could give them all the suspects they wanted but it would all mean nothing if they were innocent.

**2 am… Mitre Square**

The body of one Catherine Eddowes was in the corner of the square. As soon as Gordon and Tony entered the square, they could clearly see that the female body was fresh, bloodied and gruesome. Something that echoed the previous killings. They were ordered to get somewhere by a messanger. They were told that Gibbs was looking over another body. There was no sign of McGee or Gibbs in Mitre Square. That was when they were told by one of the people in the crowd that someone had run off from the scene.

"Maybe Gibbs and McGee's on the trail of the killer. You go that way," Tony pointed to the other way. "Any one of you get to Commercial Street Station and tell them what's happened. Tell them to get to the streets now," Tony ordered. News in Whitechapel was like wild fire. It spread and spread and soon everyone would know about it.

It was obvious that word hadn't quite gotten around as Tony sprinted through the streets and scanned the area as he looked for anyone who might have had just committed the gruesome act. "Hey watch it!" Tony heard someone call out as he found him self literally bounced into the street. That was when he noticed how cold it was, once he was in the middle of the street and exposed to the wind traveling between the buildings. He could see his misty breath as he got chills.

"Of course," he reasoned with his body. Of course it'd feel cold. He cursed him self. There was always chillness in the air after a murder. Imagination sometimes created it. He turned around to see the possible directions the killer might have taken. Tony managed to just dive out of the way out of an oncoming carriage. He hardly saw it in the darkness. "Stop!" Tony banged on the next carriage. "Follow that carriage!" He told the driver.

The driver whipped the horse hard once Tony sat next to him. He was thankful that the driver didn't spend time asking questions. His grip tightened on the small rail beside him to keep himself from sliding off. "Get in front of him," Tony ordered. It was becoming rough as they were now matching speed but not getting past it. "Stop!" Tony tried to yell to the other driver. "I can't believe I'm going to do this," Tony muttered to him self as he stood up unsteadily.

"What are you doing?" The driver asked.

"Keep it going," Tony told him. "Father always said you were an idiot, Tony," he muttered to him self once again. Before Tony could talk him self out of the stupid idea he leaped from the carriage to the other one. He automatically anchored his hands down.

"What the hell are you doing?!" The second driver asked.

"Stop now!" Tony was breathing heavily. He could feel his body trembling and his heart racing. "Stop!" Tony showed the second driver his revolver. "I'm Tony DiNozzo, Metropolitan Police H-223," Tony identified himself.

The horse eventually came to a stop. Tony's feet hurt as he jumped to the road and opened the carriage door and pointed his revolver into the empty carriage. He smacked the door once he realized it was empty. "What are you doing? Where's your passenger?" Tony snapped.

"I don't have a passenger," The driver answered his question without moving from the carriage.

"You driving around Whitechapel like a madman and you've not got a passenger?" Tony asked in a bewildered tone.

"Well my friend and I were timing me to see how quickly I can get around some parts," The driver answered.

"Idiots… There's been two murders and you're driving around like a maniac? Take me to Mitre Square," Tony ordered. He might as well make use of the driver now. He doubted that the driver was going to refuse an officer with a revolver dangling by his side.

**Goulston Street  
Message??**

Gibbs strolled into Goulston Street with McGee. He was surprised to see the Metropolitan Police Commissioner standing in front of a wall examining a piece of bloodied cloth.

"What are you doing?" Gibbs asked a PC who was washing away some chalk marks on the wall. He was about to slap the young PC into next week for wiping away evidence. Maybe H-Division was ill-equipped to handle

"I was ordered to. By Tom Morrow," The PC answered defensively.

"Sir… That's evidence," Gibbs said. Gibbs' attention turned to Commissioner Morrow. He was furious that this course of action was being taken.

"I've written it down," The PC said as he handed Gibbs the notebook.

"That's anti-semantic words. Soon this place is going to be over run by a lot of people. As soon as these words reach the light of day, there'd be rioting amongst everybody," Morrow gave the explanation for his reasoning. The Bloody Sunday riots were not forgotten. Anything could renew the hatred. "He's written it down and there was this found beneath it," Morrow handed the bloodied cloth over to McGee before taking Gibbs aside.

"What, Sir?" Gibbs asked. Inspector Gibbs was never known as a patient man. He had a killer to catch and now evidence was being wiped away because someone was afraid of the possibility of public outrage over a few words. But what was worse than that was that two of his team members had gone off in the night and hadn't been seen since.

Morrow knew that the public was quickly losing their faith in the police's ability to handle the East End of London. "It is imperative that you catch this killer as soon as possible Inspector Gibbs. Someone must be brought in and pay for this," Morrow said with annoyance. They seemed to be getting nowhere with the investigation while the bodies continued to mount.

"We're doing that," Gibbs answered back.

"Don't bother 'doing' that... Just get that done," Morrow snapped.

Gibbs thought about holding his tongue. Over the past few weeks they'd done a hell of a lot of leg work and did their best and now they were having their ability questioned. "Do you want the killer or will anybody do?" Gibbs responded before turning his back. Of course talking back to a commissioner could be dangerous to one's career. "Sir?" Gibbs got the attention of the man. "Can I ask you something? Does this have anything to do with the Freemasons?" Gibbs asked directly.

"No," Tom Morrow answered flatly.

"Has anyone seen DiNozzo or Cale?" Gibbs asked. He was only answered by shakes of the head. He had sent people to go and fetch the other two members of his team but they hadn't shown up yet.

**MORTUARY**

"Boss," Tony made his way to Ducky and Gibbs. He'd managed to get his breath back and caught up with Gordon.

"Where have you two been?" Gibbs asked. His voice sounded gruff and harsh.

"We found the scene and we was hot on the trail of the killer... But we couldn't find the man. Where were you?" Tony answered. He saw two bodies on the slabs. "My God... There's two?" Tony managed to say.

"You come find us when you've completed the examinations, Duck," Gibbs ordered. "It looks as if you three are dead on your feet. I suggest you lot get some sleep until Duck here completes the examinations and look through fresh eyes," Gibbs said as they left the area. They all seemed too tired to argue.

**COMMERCIAL STREET POLICE STATION**

Gibbs had written the Goulston Street message written on the blackboard. "The Juwes are not the men that will be blamed for nothing," Gibbs said to him self. He couldn't figure out what it was meant to say. Either it was written by someone who didn't have a grasp of the English language or there was a message within the message.

"Still trying to work it out, Boss?" Tony said as he came in with the coffee. He had just poured a couple of cups after boiling it on the wood stove. It was just after nine and Ducky still hadn't finished yet. But then again the man had to perform two autopsies and stitch up the belly so the guts wouldn't fall out every time she was moved. He couldn't help but imagine the body hanging up on the meat hook while Ducky took the pictures. It was just another addition to destroying a body.

Gibbs didn't answer. Before he could think about things further, the door to their office was almost knocked off its hinges. "What's going on?" Gibbs demanded to know. But his demand was met mostly with angered silence.

Tony found him self in the clutches of three people from H-Division. His arms were held back. "Of all the time you've been hunting the so called Leather Apron... He's been right under your nose," Larry threw the newspaper to Gibbs. It had already been opened. The paper had been putting two issues out a day with all the news flying around.

**Dear Boss**

_**I** keep on hearing the police have caught me but they won't fix me just yet. I have laughed when they looked so clever and talk about being on the __right__ track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and shant quit ripping them till I get buckled. Grand work the last job was, I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me and my funny little games. I saved some of the proper __red__ stuff in a ginger bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I can't use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope. __Ha. Ha.__ The next job I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp, I want to get to work right away if I get the chance. Good luck._

**Yours Truly  
Jack The Ripper**

_Don't mind me giving the trade name_

_PS wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands. Curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a Doctor now. ha. ha._

"See... See. Mister DiNozzo here is the only one that I know of that refers to some people as Boss," Larry said as he subdued the struggling Tony. "Guess you been looking for Jack The Ripper all this time and there he was. Right under your nose." Larry punched Tony in the stomach and winded him. That put a stop to Tony trying to break free of the grasp.

Gibbs nodded. There was no way he could talk the crowd down. There was one way he could diffuse the situation. "Put him in and I'll interrogate him," Gibbs rolled up his sleeves as a threatening gesture.

"Just remember...," Larry said.

"If it turns out that DiNozzo here is 'Leather -, Jack The Ripper, you can have the reward," Gibbs followed them out. The group was quickly intercepted by McGee.

"What's going on?" McGee asked. He was shocked to see Tony being dragged down to the cells.

"They believe that DiNozzo's Jack The Ripper," Gibbs said flatly. He was going to prove that that wasn't the case. He hadn't known his team for too long but he knew that none of his team was a killer. But peoples' suspicion had to be laid to rest and he knew the way to do it. Hopefully, the young man would be understanding and play along.


	8. Chapter 8

**RIPPER'S LONDON**

People were ready to hang anybody. They waited with baited breath for the confession that might be coming. It seemed that Inspector Gibbs was taking his time interrogating DiNozzo. They began to get impatient after an indeterminable amount of time. After what seemed like an eternity the door opened and Tony was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor in front of everyone.

"McGee, Gordon... Take him to cell two so he can rest his body," Gibbs pulled his sleeves back down. "Now... Is there someone else that you lot would like to accuse? Speak now so I can deal with them," he narrowed his eyes. "DiNozzo is not Jack The Ripper. So come on! There must be someone you suspect! I'm itching for another interrogation," Gibbs cracked his knuckles threateningly. "Any other suspects you want to name and I will deal with them," Gibbs told them.

McGee and Gordon half carried, half dragged Tony into the cell block and placed him on the bed. McGee looked at the unconscious man and then to Gordon. "I think Inspector Gibbs needs to be dealt with in a harsh way," McGee said.

Gordon nodded. "I agree. I can actually get in contact with some people that Tony and I know. Get that man roughed up a bit," Gordon said with a thin smile.

"Well how about that Lusk and his committee. Them and Gibbs don't get along," McGee agreed with the plan.

"Nice to know that you two care so much," Gordon and McGee's head turned to face Tony lying on the bed with their mouths dropped open. "I am fine," he sat up on the bed and chuckled at his colleagues' expression.

"What?" McGee asked.

"It was an act. Would've made Richard Mansfield jealous don't you think?" Tony laughed once again. "Gibbs wanted to make sure that H-division members didn't throw around accusations so we staged the little act. I think that they think if Gibbs would do that to someone on his own team, then what the hell will he do too someone outside the team?" Tony said. He was happy to play the part. Tony had been in many fights and knew how to look and act injured. Only time will tell if their plan worked.

* * *

_**CALE Lodgings**_

Penelope didn't say anything to Gordon right away. It was obvious that he wasn't in the mood to talk. He had been gone for three days without any messages whatsoever. It was worrying. "Are you alright?" Penelope asked him.

Gordon shook his head slowly but without saying anything. Life was short... Was a waste. Things needed to be done without worrying about the consequences. He had spoken to his wife about having more children. Penelope didn't say no so that was a yes. He rested his hands upon her shoulders and guided her backwards to the bed.

"What?" Penelope asked. She was taken aback by being kissed with such force. Gordon reached down with one hand and picked her up by the leg and supporting her back. She winced as she was unceremoniously dropped onto the bed. He ignored her futile struggles as he tore her dress off. "Relax," Gordon whispered into her ear. Her tears of silent begging rolled down her cheeks unnoticed by her husband. Though by then, she allowed it. Promising her self not to speak of this act again.

**Diary Of Doctor Donald Mallard – October**

_The death of Catherine Eddowes and Elisabeth Stride shook Whitechapel even though there is some debate within the public about Stride being a victim of Jack The Ripper. Through all the years I've traveled, I have never seen a nickname catch on so quick. That's I think, due to the letters published in the papers._

America celebrates Halloween but one day a year... I must say, that Whitechapel has had a month full of Halloweens. Jack The Ripper has affected people in different ways. Unstable women escaped the threat of murder the only way they knew how, by taking their own lives. Nobody could've guessed that the violence level would've increased.

I have given evidence at many inquests but none more heart wrenching than that of Catherine Eddowes. She was horribly disfigured and like Chapman, had her intestines exposed but covered up. But the face was horribly disfigured by a knife to the point where even part of the nose fell off. Her abdomen was slice open, leaving a huge hole... The kidney was missing. It's sickening to think that this could be the work of a surgeon. George Lusk of the Vigilance Committee received a letter accompanied with a human kidney allegedly from Jack The Ripper.

It's a horrifying thought of what one human being could do to another. During these dark times, it is easy too forget that crime does continue. A headless, limbless torso turned up. The identity of that torso still remains a mystery. It seems that old Whitechapel is the mystery capital of the world.

In an attempt for a different approach to finding Jack, Sir Tom Morrow had brought in especially trained sniffer dogs. The dogs performed quite well in their first showing but unfortunately, they wouldn't leave him alone at the second test. He was basically laughed all the way back to his office. The dogs were never spoken of again.

Rewards... The last count had reached 1500 pounds. If someone knows who Jack is, surely they'd turn him in for the reward. But nobody had come forward with any information leading to the man's identity. The only promising lead came when a woman produced bloodstained clothes from one of her lodgers. But the lodger was never seen again.

As with any case that doesn't get solved right away... The trail ran cold. Dead end after dead end lead to frustration from the public especially. Jack The Ripper needed to be caught. Since the menace was not in custody, the killing was sure to continue. He had a thirst for blood and it seems as though nothing could quench it.

Stupidity of some people is almost as sickening as the murders themselves. I was shocked to hear about one store window displaying dummies that were painted and looked like the victims. The owners said they were did it so people wouldn't forget. It was almost Bloody Sunday all over again and fortunately the store owners eventually agreed to take the tasteless display down.

_Also October has been filled with many power struggles unfortunately. Even though they're working towards the same end with the same goals, their methods and personalities are destined to __clash. For example:  
Inspector Gibbs vs George Lusk – Jethro is an old fashioned Inspector. Cut from a cloth that's probably long gone. Lusk may act power hungry but I think he has good intentions… Just doesn't go about things the right way. Lusk is dangerous because he can rally people to his side._

Anthony vs The Press – Anthony's father basically runs the news. Their relationship is terrible at best. It seems that since Anthony SR's son is part of the investigations that he should be given information and special consideration. Too which, young Anthony refuses to pass on any information at all.

H-Division vs Public Opinion – As time progresses, public opinion wavers. Nothing short of the apprehension of Jack The Ripper will appease the masses. But it seems that every trail has turned cold, even the more outlandish theories were being explored. It wasn't unusual for some drunk gentleman to enter Commercial Street Station and blame the first person they see.

Communication – Each and every day there seems to be more letters popping up. Most of these so called Ripper Letters were dismissed as hoaxes. However, the Dear Boss and the dubbed From Hell letter to Lusk are believed to be the genuine article. But still that is up for debate.  
One riddle still remains. 'The Jewes are the men that will be blamed for nothing'. People think that it's referring to a secret organization or even just the Jews of the area. Many people believe that Jack decided to write this message to stir up trouble amongst the public. Guess it's a mystery that only the killer can clarify.

Reactions – In a surprising move… Sir Tom Morrow, the Police Commissioner issued a pardon for any of Jack The Ripper's accomplices. This way they can be free of any prosecution and turn in the murderer. Perhaps this should've been employed earlier. Anything that can bring this beast too justice.

Inspector Leroy Jethro Gibbs – As I have stated previously, Jethro is quite old fashioned. A dinosaur. But there's another well-hidden side. He cares deeply but doesn't express it in the normal way. Sometimes his no nonsense kindness could be misconstrued as gruff and mean. Even though he's old fashioned, he's never quick to dismiss anything. That was evident when he had dismissed the notion of Psychic Lees after listening too his story.

It's really interesting to watch Anthony, Gordon and Timothy grow during the course of the investigation. Occasionally, their antics are childish and unprofessional but they get the job done. They've grown a lot in such a short amount of time... I'm afraid that if this goes unsolved... They'd probably never be the same again. Not that I think the past month or so hasn't changed us already.  
**Doctor Donald Mallard  
Excerpts from October**

**Saturday Night Theatre**

Tony lead Gibbs backstage of the Theatre just as The Strange Case of Jekyll and Hyde was finishing up. Tony was beginning to act a little jittery as he heard the applause. It was hard to believe that he'd get so close to Richard Mansfield.

"I'm sorry… But Mister Mansfield refuses to see anybody after a performance," a man said to them.

"I think he'll see us," Tony said confidently. "Anthony DiNozzo JR… I don't think I need to tell you who my father is," he reasoned.

"Of course Mister DiNozzo sir. Wait there," the man told them.

"It appears being a DiNozzo has its advantages," Gibbs smiled.

"I use it when I need to," Tony responded.

Tony wasn't above using his last name at times even though he hated doing it. They came to question Richard Mansfield since someone had accused him of being the Ripper. The argument that only someone who was insane could play the dual role of Jekyll and Hyde had made some sense and therefore the angle had to be investigated.

"Right this way," the man came back.

Tony and Gibbs walked into Mansfield's dressing room. "Thank you for seeing us," Tony greeted.

"You can't really say no to a DiNozzo. Even if it is just a son," Mansfield responded. "You must be Scotland Yard Inspector Leroy Gibbs. Interesting name, short straight to the point. I like it," he said.

Tony chuckled slightly. That was Gibbs alright. "We need to ask you a couple of questions," Gibbs stated the reason for being there. "Can you account for your whereabouts on the nights of August 31st, September 8th and the 30th?" Gibbs asked.

It was now Mansfield's turn to chuckle but it was nervously. "The night of the murders? Am I too understand that I've come under suspicion?" He removed his glasses and wiped his sweaty face.

"A person of interest," Gibbs corrected. "Just answer the question."

"I'm not sure where I was on the 31st of August. September the 8th I was at a rehearsal and the 30th of September… I was visiting with Doctor Gull and Doctor Williams," Mansfield answered as best as he could.

"And what were you three doing?" Gibbs asked.

"They were coaching me on being Doctor Jekyll. Correcting me on mixing chemicals, posture and all that," Mansfield answered.

"I heard that performers study real people in order to play their roles better? Who is Jekyll and Hyde based on?" Tony asked.

"That… You'll have to ask Robert Louis Stevenson. How I see it… I don't base it on anyone but an idea. Here, you have Doctor Jekyll… A student, a creator a man who is interested in furthering science. But then you have the complete opposite. Hyde. Who is only interest is destruction. He is the evil side of humanity. Not… a real person," Mansfield brushed his brown hair. "That's what I think anyway," he added.

Tony adjusted his collar. "You know we'll have to check that out. Just don't change your lodgings until we do so," Gibbs responded and left the dressing room.

"Yes, Mister DiNozzo?" Mansfield asked.

"I was wondering," Tony shifted uncomfortably and heat blushed his face and found him self unable to continue straight away.

"You come into my dressing room, indirectly accuse me of being a murderer and then want me to give you an autograph?" Mansfield asked with raised eyebrows. Tony shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Give it here. I'm only doing this because you're Mister DiNozzo SR's son," he signed the program.

"Thank you Mister Mansfield," Tony responded.

"Can you tell your Father that I can't continue helping him out," Mansfield answered. "Those bastards have decided to cancel Jekyll and Hyde. They're afraid that the play encourages Jack The Ripper of something like that," Mansfield said angrily.

"Bloody hell that's ridiculous. Considering, long before the Jekyll and Hyde book, there was violence and murder in Whitechapel," Tony said.

"Try telling them that," Mansfield said as he turned to face the mirror.

"Thank you for your time, Mister Mansfield," Tony said as he joined Gibbs outside the dressing room.

"Right… In the morning we'll go pay Doctor Gull a visit," Gibbs said as they left the theatre.

"Who is he?" Tony asked as he patted his pocket.

"The Royal Surgeon," Gibbs answered flatly.

Tony almost choked. "That means…," he managed to get out and Gibbs only nodded in response. One thing about the Jack the Ripper case he was beginning too see a whole different area. But then again, it was a curse.

_**Chapter End Notes**_

_**I had to use Richard Mansfield commenting on liking the name 'Gibbs' since the Actor Richard Mansfield had a son and named him Richard 'Gibbs' Mansfield**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Ripper's London…**

Tony bent over and examined the chemistry set that was lying empty on the table. It looked as if someone was ready to start some experiment. "You think it's possible to invent a potion to bring out your evil side?" Tony asked.

Gibbs shook his head in answer. That whole idea was as absurd as the play that suggested it. "Hello Gentlemen and what can I do for you?" The elderly Doctor Gull asked.

Tony was busy scanning the room. It was almost wall to wall of books. It was the man's own personal library. "We were hoping to ask you what you were doing on the 30th of September," Gibbs gave the reason why they were there.

"Let me check my diary," Gull thought for a moment. He grabbed a book from his desk drawer. "Ah, the night of the two murders. Ah, yes. That's right, I was having dinner with that actor chap, Richard Mansfield," Gull said.

"How long did that go for?" Gibbs asked.

"We were talking until almost midnight. Richard wanted to know how it'd be possible to mix chemicals without having to go through all the motions of using proper procedure," Doctor Gull answered as he sat down.

"You taught him to mix chemicals?" Tony turned around with a surprised look.

"My dear boy. No! Just the procedure. There is no way I'd recommend anybody to mix chemicals without proper implements. I used different waters too mix," Gull explained to them. "He's an interesting young man that Richard Mansfield."

"What's your impression of him? I see here you're interested in madness," Tony said as he read some of the spines of the books.

"You're asking me if Richard is as mad as Mister Hyde? No. He's not mad. Some people can easily adapt to play certain roles. I'm sure you yourself can fit yourself into a character. But he is far from mad," Gull explained again.

"You've heard about Jack the Ripper, right?" Tony asked the question. "Could it be possible that Jack the Ripper is a real version of Jekyll and Hyde?"

"It's possible that someone could have the personality of Jekyll and Hyde but in many cases, the more dominant personality would be the evil conscious. But this Jack the Ripper fellow is dominantly Jekyll. That is the good personality is there and occasionally Mister Hyde comes out. But what's most intriguing is that he's able to revert back to his good side and blend in with the public," Gull explained. He had been researching Madness for some time and like everybody else he drew his own conclusion. "I believe that some of these letters published is the continual struggle between the dual personalities," he added.

"Almost all of the letters are hoaxes," Gibbs responded.

"But not all. The main question is… Are the letters Hyde taunting you lot or is it Jekyll trying to confess?" Gull said.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor Gull," Gibbs stood up.

"Not a problem, Inspector. Please come and see me if you need any more information," Gull added.

**Gibbs Residence**

Tony wasn't sure what they were doing at the strange house. Gibbs hadn't mentioned they were going to see anybody here. "What are we doing here, Boss?" Tony asked out of curiosity.

"I'm reporting in too my family," Gibbs stated flatly. Whenever Gibbs was away from the Yard on a case he always checked in with his family if the opportunity arose. "Come on," Gibbs motioned for the younger man to exit the carriage.

"I think I'll stay here," Tony acted a little edgy. Family time was a foreign thing to him and the last thing they needed was his company. That and the fact that he felt so tired he wanted to sleep. But it was early afternoon and they had no chance to get in a good sleep.

"Get out here," Gibbs said gruffly. Tony knew not too argue with that tone and fell into line.

"Daddy!" A young girl latched onto Gibbs as soon as he entered the small house.

"Hey, Kelly," Gibbs' demeanor changed. Tony noted that Gibbs almost looked ten years younger. "Hi Shannon, honey. Hope you don't mind me bringing someone along. This is Tony DiNozzo from Whitechapel," Gibbs said after he kissed Shannon on the cheek.

"Hello Mister DiNozzo," Shannon said as she shook Tony's hand.

"Please… Just Tony or even just DiNozzo," Tony responded. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gibbs," he added.

"Can I get you something?" She asked.

Tony shook his head. "No thank you," he answered. It was then that Tony felt a smack on the back of the head. "Alright… Cup of coffee. Strong," Tony corrected him self. When Shannon smacked Gibbs at the back of the head, Tony's jaw dropped.

"I'm afraid I instilled a bad habit into him," Shannon elaborated.

Tony shrugged his shoulders. Without the occasional pat on the back from his friends and the headslaps he thought he'd never have physical contact with anyone. Good, bad touch it really didn't matter at times. He sat at the table and waited. Yes… Things were different and uncomfortable.

"What you playing with there?" Tony asked Kelly who was intently playing with what looked like a horse carrieage.

"A carriage… Daddy made it for me," Kelly handed it to Tony to have a closer look.

Tony admired the craftsmanship. Gibbs was full of surprises. There was a moment of sadness that quickly dissipated. His own father would never do something like that for him. "It's very nice," Tony handed it back to her. For the time being he could pretend to be around a happy family and maybe put the case behind him for the time being. At least until they get back to Whitechapel.

**11 – 09 – 1888 (Miller's Court)**

Gibbs and Tony had spent time in the carriage coming up with a plausible suspect list. Just when they thought that they had something, it just didn't fit right. "Maybe we're going at this wrong," Tony suggested. He wasn't sure what he meant or even if he was thinking straight. But at least he was able to get some sleep on the way.

"How so?" Gibbs asked.

"What do we know? Apparently the victims didn't know each other. So I guess we can safely assume that the killer picked out his victims. Probably stalked his victims. " Tony said as he waited for Gibbs to nod. They felt the carriage suddenly stop and the door swung open.

"Boss," McGee said. Annoyance turned to concern when they saw that he looked whiter than usual. "Tony… There's been another one. Miller's Court," McGee told them as he tried to compose him self. His mind was racing faster than his mouth can keep up.

"Settle down… Who?" Tony asked.

"They're saying its Mary Jane Kelly. But they can't be sure," McGee answered. He wiped his eyes.

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"She's unrecognizable. She's cut up. More than that, she's…," McGee's voice trailed off.

"Get in here!" Gibbs ordered. "Driver. Miller's Court," Gibbs said as he took a glance at the young man who just joined them. McGee couldn't bring him self to make eye contact with the others. Tony and Gibbs looked at each other with a sense of foreboding. It was surely going to be bad.

Gibbs, Tony and McGee stepped out of the carriage and walked into Miller's Court's narrow entry. There were several police guarding the entrance into the flat that Mary Jane Kelly had resided. Gordon stood up when he saw them approach.

"Johnathon Bowyer here was collecting rent," Gordon swallowed hard. He was glad he didn't have breakfast yet. "When there was no answer and he tried the door, he peered through the broken window and saw it," Gordon said. "To get in we had to break the door down with the axe."

Tony patted Gordon on the shoulder. Even before stepping into the small flat, Tony was feeling scared to death at the thought of what he might find. He followed Gibbs into the room. "I'll need to speak to a few people," Gibbs said.

Tony felt his breathing stop as he saw the mess that was once a human being. McGee was right, he thought bitterly. It was barely recognizable as human and the walls were colored with blood and God knows what. Tony reached into his pocket for his sketchpad. It was habitual to sketch a crime scene after all.

"Don't. Step outside," Gibbs said as he waited for the photographer to finish. He had to take the scene in quickly before leaving. Not even all his years of being an Inspector could prepare him for this. Whoever did this had to be stopped.

Tony had been listening to McGee. "I suggest you suggest it," Tony said to McGee's idea. It did sound out there but it was at least worth a try.

"He won't go for it," McGee shook his head. He was sorry that he ever brought it up. It was difficult to tell whether he was being mocked or not.

"Won't go for what, McGee?" Gibbs asked gruffly. He would wait until later to see if they were alright. Right now, they were reeling from the gruesome discovery. "Spit it out," he almost snapped. Gibbs wasn't sure what kind of conversation he had caught the tail end to.

"Ah, yeah well some people say that the eyes can record the last thing a victim sees. They need a special lens though. It's not proven…," McGee told the theory that hadn't been proven or disproved yet.

"Get it done," Gibbs responded quickly. He was sure that it sounded like bullshit, but right now he was willing to give anything a chance. It didn't matter how absurd it sounded.

"Yes, Boss," McGee said.

"Are you alright, Gordon?" Tony asked as he noticed the silence. "McGee?" He asked. Perhaps he should have stayed instead of gallivanting off with Gibbs. Tony felt he should have stayed, he should have been the one who burst through the door.

"Let's get this bastard before he does this again," Gordon said as he ignored the question. His words were almost drowned out by the sounds of shouting from the mob that was being held back from entering Miller's Court. But they couldn't stop them from hanging around and seemingly proceeded to stir up contempt for the police.

"Bloody hell," the three of them said together.

It didn't take a psychic to tell them that the Vigilance Committee was voicing its opinion again. This time they weren't alone. There was the guy from the Gazette, Lewis Robert writing everything down and seemed to be getting into the swing of the uproar. "Care to say a few words… Give your side of tha story huh?" Lewis walked up to them.

"You want a few words?" Tony asked after he looked at Gordon. Tony never liked the press and that feeling grew along with the rising tension. "You want a first hand account?" Tony was grateful that the other two were on the same page as he was. The three of them grabbed the reporter and dragged him into Miller's Court. Fortunately, with all that was going on, the unruly mob didn't see anything.

Perhaps if they took a moment to think about the consequences of their actions they would've probably stopped. Lewis was unable to stop him self from being propelled into the crime scene. As soon as the reporter was able, he backed out and left Miller's Court.

**Mortuary 1 00pm**

It had taken them a long time to bring back what was left of Mary Jane Kelly to the Mortuary where Ducky could perform the examination. Tony, McGee and Gordon waited for the quick results. Hopefully, there'd be something to work with.

"There's going to be some backlash, that's for sure," McGee said something.

"I'll take full responsibility. It was my idea after all," Tony said. He hadn't heard of any type of reprimand as of yet. But the day wasn't over... yet.

Ducky and his assistant carefully laid the body on the table. The two made sure not to disturb the body further. It was only from pure caution and care that they were able to keep the victim's right leg attached. "It's a real meat puzzle this is," Ducky commented.

The three onlookers groaned. The term meat puzzle said that there was going to be some work in putting the pieces together. "Now… So everything in the room was brought here?" Ducky asked as he started examining the body.

"Yes," McGee said. They had carried in boxes of removed intestines and bits of meat as they were noted.

"Where is Jethro?" Ducky was surprised that the Inspector wasn't in there waiting for all the information.

"Called back to the Yard. Right after we saw the victim, there was some urgent business with the commissioner that Tom Morrow guy," Tony explained. Gibbs basically disappeared right after they suggested about the photograph of the eyes. They were still waiting for those to be developed.

"Oh," Ducky said. The others winced when Ducky moved the woman's head and the sound of broken bones being moved could be heard. "I'm sure you three have more pressing things that need to be done," he said and watched the three turn on the heels and leave. "It is clear that you knew who did this to you or at least they knew you on a very personal level. Tell me dear Mary, who could you have ran into that would've wanted to do this to you? Don't be shy, you can tell me… I'm a Doctor after all," Ducky leaned over the body. Throughout history, there have been unspeakable acts performed on human beings from other so called human beings. But this was different. There was no evidence that she had been raped. Like the others, there was no sign of robbery and yet there was just so much intent and malice. The person responsible for this atrocity definitely was NOT normal.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm honored to announce that Ripper's London has won the Decades and Eras challenge I wrote this for. YAY!**

**RIPPER'S LONDON**

Gibbs' mouth dropped open as soon as Sir Tom Morrow had informed him of his resignation. "You'll leave at a time like this, Sir?" Gibbs asked him. It was like a punch to the gut.

"It was either get fired or quit. I was given that ultimatum after Catherine Eddowes and whatshername. It's clear now, that they need some younger blood here," Morrow said. The Mary Jane Kelly murder was enough to convince him of that. "Here's this. Use it wisely. A pardon to anyone other than Jack The Ripper," he handed Gibbs the piece of paper. It wielded persuasive power.

"Can't you wait until we get the bastard?" Gibbs asked. It couldn't look good for anyone's career if they resigned during a time of such turmoil.

"Well are you any closer?" Morrow asked.

Gibbs shook his head. It didn't matter how many leads they chased down, it always lead to nothing. All their legwork and questioning seemed to turn up nothing at all. One lead they did have seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"Until Midnight tonight I'm still the Commissioner," Morrow said as he thought for a moment. "I'm giving you free reign. The new guy might think differently. Do what you have to do, Inspector Gibbs," he told him. "Even if it means working with that Vigilance Committee. And in response to something you said to me once before… I want this killer brought in and not just some scapegoat," he told him.

"Understood, Sir," Gibbs responded with an obedient nod before leaving the office. He was in two minds about the Commissioner's last statement but was not about to argue the point. In his opinion, the whole situation was being handled wrong and it was unclear about how many obstacles were blocking the investigation's path.

**Commercial Street Police Station(next day)**

Tony wasn't about to wait for Gibbs to return before starting things off. He could always be filled in later. Instead of just having McGee and Gordon in front of him but half of the Commercial Street Police Personnel crowded into the office. This wasn't about who got to solve the case first… It was no longer about appearances… It was solely about catching the man responsible.

He had many numbers and times written down in his notebook. "What we have here is a person able to blend in as one of the group. I can't stress the importance of Jack the Ripper's capture enough. Now on the 30th of September, there were two murders within an hour of each other. Elizabeth Stride's time of death was put at around one am that morning. We also calculated that to Eddowes' by foot it would've taken about half an hour. Therefore left the killer only fifteen minutes to do this," Tony pointed to a photograph on the chalkboard. "However, if he used a carriage as transport… He'd be able to use the amount of time saved to do what needs to be done methodically," he said as he used the pointer to stress his point. "What the plan is that we go out… Distribute a notice to anyone living in the areas of the murders… Especially Miller's Court. Also at night, I want every carriage stopped searched and accounted for," he said to the others.

"All carriages?" Someone asked.

"I don't care if it has a bloody Royal Crest on its bloody door. If it's a carriage it must be stopped, checked," Tony said with authority. "Those who are doing house searches in the allotted area… One of the things to be on the look out is human parts… Such as hearts, kidney or kidney parts, nose," Tony skimmed through the list. He thought about passing around the grisly photograph of Mary Kelly's body to remind them of what the Ripper was capable of.

Everybody knew their job. Tony watched them leave and shuffled some papers together. He was shocked to see that Gibbs was standing near the doorway. "You could've said something you know. I didn't intend to stand on your toes," Tony said.

"You had the situation well in hand," Gibbs said.

"What happened with you?" Tony asked.

"Called away. Sir Tom Morrow resigned," Gibbs stated coolly.

That had come to a shock for Tony. Granted, he never knew the man personally, but to leave with this case pending was bad. He couldn't fathom the reason for such an action. "Oh," Tony said flatly as he sat down. He grabbed his second notebook. "We have been speaking to a lot of people who knew Mary Jane Kelly... Her age was given as somewhere between 28 and 32. She often looked after other whores' babies if they were working and she wasn't. Attractive. Always paid her rent on time until up to last month. She traveled around a lot with a Mister J. Smith before settling down in Miller's Court early this year. No known enemies," Tony gave a description and handed him the report from Doctor Mallard.

"What are you waiting for?" Gibbs asked. It was surprising not to see Tony moving around all the time. The younger man looked dog tired.

"Missy's coming around to answer some questions and provide some information," Tony answered. "I mean Abby is coming around. Hard to get my head around calling her something else," Tony added. It wasn't often that he looked past her as a high classed whore but occasionally she helped out with their investigations.

Tony and Gibbs were both surprised that Abby had decided to dress in a light blue formal dress for her visit. He watched her sit down on a chair in front of him. Abby was much more subdued than her normal attitude. "Thanks for coming in, Abby," Tony said. He thought about what he was going to say carefully. "I wanted to ask you some questions about some people. I know that you're not usually one to be so open," he continued as he got his paper ready.

"At a time like this… I think I can elaborate somewhat," Abby said. "Mary Kelly was well liked. What happened to her was awful," she said sadly.

Tony nodded. But he knew he had to be direct. "You did mention that Prince Albert Victor had spent some time in the East End. Did you ever get a chance to meet with him or any of the Royal Family?" Tony asked.

"Now, now, Tony… I can say that I've seen Prince Victor on occasion. He's really a nice man. If you think he's suspect, you're barking up the wrong tree. He doesn't have the intelligence to conspire him self out of a box. He's not very intelligent. That and the fact he told me he was going to Scotland in late September to early October," Abby answered. Her refusal to answer anything regarding any other Royal clients or acquaintances told Tony that she wouldn't volunteer any information unless it was name specific.

Tony wrote down the information and read through some of his notes. "How about Doctors? Do you get many Doctor clients?" Tony asked.

"Personally, I think I've only had one. Doctor John Williams. He was kind of a cold man and often talked to animals. Usually if there was a medical problem amongst the prostitutes, he'd be the one they go to," Abby answered truthfully.

"Did he ever come across any of the victims?" Tony asked her.

"There was a rumor going around that Mary Nichols went to him when she found out she was having a baby," she answered. Abby didn't agree with that course events. But in Whitechapel, sometimes things were just too much to handle.

"Is there anybody that possibly could be Jack the Ripper that you've come across?" Gibbs decided to interject.

"Well there's this one guy… An artist. He's really got a dark personality. He showed me some paintings of his and he even paid me so he could make a painting. Never showed that to me though. I don't know his full name, he only gave the name Sickert," she explained.

Tony wrote that name down and continued with the questioning for awhile further. Nothing of interest came up and Tony and Abby was left alone. "Are you alright, Tony?" Abby asked him for a serious answer. There were occasions when Tony would just deflect personal questions away from him.

"I am fine," Tony responded quickly.

"You know... I can help. Use me as bait Tony. I could go out, a couple of you lot can watch me. Lure the Ripper into a trap I say," Abby said. She wanted the streets safe and the murder of Mary Jane was proof that Jack the Ripper could go after any class of whore. The others were common street walkers but she was not.

"No," Tony said after tossing the idea around in his head. He seriously considered it for a second. If it was anybody else but Missy he might have said yes to it. There was almost a sibling bond between the two. "No way in hell I'd ever ask you to do that," Tony reiterated the point.

"Did you ask me? I don't remember you asking me," Abby smiled assuringly.

"No... The answer is still no," Tony stood firm. It wasn't an easy thing to say no to her. But sometimes it had to be done. "Missy, you know that I care a lot about you, don't you? Come and live with me," he suggested it strongly.

"Now Tony, that is honorable of you... But, come on it's not what you want," Abby said to him as she held his hand.

Tony felt like arguing but she was strong for a woman. She had a will of iron. "Just look after yourself, Missy. Keep yourself safe," he gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I will. Look after yourself to, Tony. No good if you catching a killer while dead on your feet. Makes for some sloppy work, it does," Abby said.

Tony met with Gibbs on the way out. "What was that about, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"She wanted to see how things were going, that's all," Tony said flatly. He didn't dare tell the Scotland Yard Inspector about Abby's offer. One of two things was likely to happen. Either he was going to be as mad as hell that she was willing to put herself in such danger or he'd agree to it. Neither of those possibilities sounded good to Tony. So he decided the best course of action was to say nothing about it. As they exited the station... Gibbs wondered what the younger man was withholding. But dismissed it, late '88 was a time of turmoil for anybody staying in Whitechapel.

Night after night they patrolled the streets... Night after night they stopped and searched carriages. Night after night they questioned people. Night after night they arrested somebody. Yet, there was nothing concrete. Leads continued to hit dead ends and the general distaste of H-Division was growing as they appeared more incompetent as time went on.

Gibbs gave Tony some money and when they came across whores on the street, they'd offer them money so they could get a room somewhere and stay safe. Gibbs had thought that maybe if they can lessen the amount of targets, then the Ripper may just back off and the killings will stop.

**Ten Bells Pub**

Again the case had reached it's dead end. Tony sat in the dark corner of the pub. People in the Ten Bells Pub were too busy with their own business to worry about him having a few too many drinks. Tony almost knocked the bottle over as he picked it up to pour it into the glass. It was a challenge all on its own. Ten Bells Pub was a great place to disappear into the smoky crowd.

"DiNozzo," A voice talked down to him. He hadn't even noticed that Gibbs suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Have a seat," Tony pointed to the chair in front of him. "If you're here to drag me home or somewhere... Can forget it," Tony said defiantly. He stated the rules before Gibbs had a chance to say anything differently.

"Just you?" Gibbs sat down with his own drink.

"McGee's home, Gordon's taken a couple of days off. Wife's sick... I don't know. Guess we all can do with some days off. Living the case day in and day out is... I don't know," Tony shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps his father was right, he didn't have the professionalism to handle being part of the police. Hell he thought he should have solved this case ages ago. They had a great team and some how he had blown the whole case.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked him.

"I am fine," Tony said as he shifted in his chair. "I have half the mind to turn Whitechapel over to the vigilance committee. Let them deal with things. The East End would probably be flattened within a week," Tony shrugged his shoulders once again. To him, the East End seemed cursed and he couldn't foresee any hope for its future.

"How many have you had?" Gibbs asked. Gibbs never had a son but he always wanted to and he knew of the strained relationship that the young man had with his own father. Though, he never said anything.

"Don't know... Don't care," Tony's voice was slurred and he seemed to have a real problem keeping focused.

"You know that if its really the case that we fumbled the investigation. We failed it as a team. Same as if we find the killer, then we find the killer as a team. No one person takes the fall. No one person takes the credit," Gibbs stated.

"That's not how it'll be perceived, Boss," Tony responded with a snort.

"That's how it is though," Gibbs told him. He thought it strange how a young man could be so eager to take the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I've been ordered back to Scotland Yard," Gibbs suddenly said as he helped Tony pour his drink.

"That's bad," Tony said. He studied the bottom of the glass before taking a drink. "Guess I'm almost out," he said with a frown. "Guess the bell has tolled. Time for me to go home," he finished off the glass and almost stumbled backwards when he stood up. If it hadn't been for Gibbs, Tony probably would've hit the floor.

"You're not going home alone and drown yourself in unnecessary guilt, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Unnecessary guilt?" Tony scoffed again. But he was in no shape to fight when Gibbs supported Tony's weight to help him upstairs. Abs was never one to change rooms. Maybe she'd be good enough to take him in while he slept this off. "Boss?" Tony attempted to stop.

"God help me, DiNozzo. If you get sick on me I'm going to headslap you into the twentieth century," Gibbs threatened.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Boss. I was thinking. A theory we never explored. What person can roam around the streets at night covered in blood and nobody looks twice?" Tony asked as they continued upstairs.

"I'm not in the mood for one of your riddles," Gibbs responded.

"Seriously. What about if Jack's not a Jack but a Jill. A midwife can walk around all bloody and nobody would notice... Hey if it's a pair. Could be Jack and Jill," he laughed when Gibbs knocked on the door. "Jack and Jill ran up the hill to perform a little kill. After they were done they did run... And hell came tumbling after. And you know if that he was indeed a Jill you know who the number one suspect would be? Mary Kelly. We can't be certain that what we found was in fact Mary Kelly at all. What if it's some other poor soul and Mary is living a life of luxury elsewhere," Tony raised his finger to prove a point as he was led inside of Abby's room.

"Hi Gibbs... Tony!" Abby greeted exuberantly. "You don't look so good," she said to Tony who plopped him self onto the bed.

"Thanks, Missy," he smiled.

"Oh my," Abby responded.

"Can you look after him until he sobers up. I understand if you're 'busy'," Gibbs requested her help. It was clear that Abs and Tony had been friends for quite some time. But Abigail Scuito was a working woman after all.

"I can look after him. I always make room in my schedule for some of H-Division. But where are you off to in a hurry, Mister?" Abby asked Gibbs.

"I have to go back. But I'll make it back from time to time," Gibbs gave her a little peck on the cheek before leaving.

"Now, Tony. What am I to do with you?" Abby eased Tony so that he was lying flat on the bed. She began removing the boots. "You're not sleeping with those boots on," she said to him.

"I can't. I spent most of my money on drink," Tony said with a cheery smile. "Not tonight, Missy," he added.

"Tony," Abby scolded lightly. "Lie down," she always managed to relax him by fiddling with his hair. Tony looked like he needed to clear his mind and just forget about things for one night at least. And Abby was sure that she could make that happen.

"Hm, I like that," Tony mumbled as he rested his head back. Actually, it always surprised him that Abby was the only woman he let play with his hair. It was a thing with him. Then again, it was relaxing.

"What's wrong, Tony?" Abby asked after awhile of stroking his hair. He was in a semi-hypnotic state. Sometimes it was the only way to get him to talk. That was a trick she had accidentally found out on one of their first nights together.

"It's the case," Tony sighed. It was always the case. Autumn had been nothing but the damn case for them. "I don't think we can solve it. Then this time next year, the murders would have been forgotten. That's if it takes that long to forget. We'll all go on with our lives and eventually go onto new things and nobody will look back at 1888 again," Tony's shoulders heaved slowly.

"You're talking like it's over, Tony... I'm sure that nobody will forget," Abby responded.

"He was always bettering him self. The Ripper I mean. He can't do more than what he did with Mary Kelly. Hell, I don't know," Tony said. His mind's safety net had kicked in that and the amount of alcohol taken seemed to shut down and re-lock Tony's defenses. There was no way he was going to continue pouring his feelings out. That was something that men just never did. Instead, Tony allowed his mind to spiral down into a private nothingness. His thoughts and feelings could remain locked up safely.


	11. Chapter 11

McGee and Gordon looked thoroughly through the artist's studio. Walter Sickert's name had come up during the investigation and they needed to at least question the artist. McGee had voiced his opinion that the papers may be right. The police were playing a variation of blind man's bluff. Stick on a blind fold, twirl around a few times and point at the first person you see and that was their new suspect.

A relatively unknown artist and amateur actor Walter Sickert came under suspicion due to his morbid art. Gordon removed a sheet to reveal a simple black and white sketch of a woman sitting on a chair. Gordon's eyes widened.

"What is it?" McGee turned and saw the look on Gordon's face.

"Look at this," Gordon pointed to the shaded face of the skectch and cocked his head slightly. "Kinda looks like Eddowes' post-mortem face," he said flatly. It bore a striking resemblance of a bruised and damaged face.

"It's just shading," McGee responded. He was positive that Gordon was trying hard to see what wasn't really there.

"I see you're admiring some of my work. I'm Mister Sickert," Sickert introduced him self as he donned the round rimmed glasses. "But I'll appreciate it if you wouldn't take a look at my unfinished work," Sickert scolded as he quickly covered the sketch back up.

"We want you to come down to the Commercial Street Police Station and answer some of our queries," Gordon said strongly.

"Ah, Gordon," McGee got his attention by speaking in a low time. "Look at this," Gordon looked where he was staring. There was a large portrait of Missy A who had a red stroke across her throat and down her abdomen. Brown and red flecks were on the outside of the figure and her hair was a matted mess.

"That is some sick art, Sickert," Gordon said as his lips quivered.

"Sick?! It's art," Sickert responded to the criticism. He was positive that people just couldn't comprehend what he was portraying.

"Come with us," McGee snapped. It was an order that had to be obeyed.

**Commercial Street Police Station**

The others had waited for Doctor Mallard to conduct the Sickert interrogation. Ducky was a self-proclaimed student of psychology. He entered their makeshift office after the interrogation. The only thing that had changed in the office was the amount of photographs, sketches and names covering the chalkboards. To him, it looked like one huge mess.

"Well?" Gibbs was the first one to speak.

"Mister Sickert exhibits a severe distaste for the East End and its prostitutes, but he's no killer," Ducky explained.

"What about the paintings?" McGee protested.

"They seem to nothing more than just a morbid fascination. Sure it's disturbing. A lonely man who has wondered the streets or stared out his window at the streets will often paint or write what he observes. It appears that the only thing that Mister Sickert sees through his eyes is deterioration, violence and filth so that's all he paints," Ducky explained carefully. Surely, it was disturbing but there was nothing to suggest that he killed anybody. Unfortunately they had reached another dead end.

**31 – 12 – 1889:**

Tony still found it hard to fathom that Scotland Yard had withdrawn Inspector Gibbs from the Ripper investigation. They said he was needed elsewhere and since the Ripper case was going nowhere, they couldn't afford to leave their number one inspector in the East End. Tony took to working alone late at night. He was sure there was something they had missed.

"Tones," Gordon entered the office after dark.

"Don't tell me there's another one," Tony's stomach flipped.

No," Gordon responded. "We've been summoned to see the Police Commissioner right away. Apparently a body washed up in the Thames. Looks like Montague John Druitt," Gordon answered.

"The cricketer? What's that got to do with us?" Tony raised his eyebrows. Druitt was a well known sportsman and to hear that he had turned up dead was surprising.

Gordon shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, but they specifically asked for us. We have PC McGee already tracking down the man's last movements or anything like that," Gordon told him what he was told.

"Better not keep the commissioner waiting," Tony said as he gradded the coat. It was strange and just felt wrong to be dragged away from the current case. Then again, perhaps a break from Jack was what was needed.

**Police Commissioner Office  
LONDON**

Tony and Gordon walked into the office. They immediately laid their eyes upon the tanned man standing on the other side of the desk. "You boys must be Gordon Cale and Tony DiNozzo from H-Division. I am Police Commissioner Leon Vance," Vance introduced himself. Even though he had been commissioner for over a month, this was his first face to face contact with any of those working in H-Division.

"I'm sure you didn't summon us for a formal introduction," Tony eyed the commissioner warily. He usually didn't get along well with superiors especially if they were new to the position.

"Come with me," Vance ordered them as he walked out of the office and to part of the building that housed the mortuary. Tony was surprised to see Ducky with the body of a decomposing man suspended on a meat hook while a photographer took a couple of photographs. Then the body was painfully taken off the hook and placed on the table.

"What have you got for us, Doctor Mallard?" Vance asked.

"There are still facts that need to be verified," Ducky began washing his hands. "His older brother,William Druitt is due here any minute for a a positive identification," he continued speaking.

"After that I want you three in my office," Vance received a nod from Gordon and Tony as they watched him leave. There was an unusual sense of foreboding. The tone was too serious to be anything but.

**The Commissioner's Office  
01 - 01 – 1889**

Vance stood behind his desk with his arms folded and looked at Ducky, Tony and Gordon. "Well," Vance prodded for them to speak. H-Division seemed like nothing more than a Division of bumbling fools to him. But this was the closest they ever were to closing Whitechapel's Jack The Ripper chapter.

"William Druitt positively identified Montague John Druitt. He was last seen bu his brother on the third of December. It's probably that the body has been in the Thames for that amount of time," Ducky gave the results of his examination.

"In your opinions... Could Jack the Ripper have just stopped killing?" Vance asked.

"No," they each answered. They were positive that there was an uncontrollable urge for Jack to keep killing. The murders would never stop until dead or captured.

"So you're saying that Druitt's death was just a few weeks after the Kelly murder?" Vance asked the Doctor.

"Yes," Ducky responded.

Well then. Montague John Druitt was more than likely Jack the Ripper. That is what you're going to say," Vance said.

"Now wait a minute," Tony argued. "Just could be a coincidence that the murders seemed to have ceased... For now," he added.

"Your work here is done for now Doctor Mallard," Vance waited for Ducky to leave the office before continuing. "I've heard about you two... You two are loose canons. Well that might have worked with Morrow but it doesn't with me. Even with Scotland Yard's Inspector Gibbs, H-Division had botched the investigation. You've lost the faith of the public you've sworn to protect. You HAVE failed. This is your chance to redeem yourselves," Vance concluded.

"By lying to the public? We won't do that," Tony stated.

"Then work it so, Druitt looks guilty," Vance responded.

"This is ridiculous," Tony snapped.

"I'm your superior. You'll do as I order," Vance retorted.

"Jack the Ripper is still out there and you're going to close the case on him just to save face?" Gordon asked. He couldn't remain quiet any longer.

"No... While you're saving face for the police... We'll continue the hunt until we catch the bastard. Leave and prove me wrong about H-Division," Vance stated as he watched Gordon and Tony turn on their heels and left to go back to Whitechapel and carry out the commissioner's bidding.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Journal Of Doctor Donald Mallard**

_The Blackheath Cricketer, Montague John Druitt was labeled a number one suspects. Really just a suspect born of circumstance. Young Timothy, brought back information. Mister Druitt was a teacher at Elist Place. For reasons undisclosed, he was dismissed on 30th of November. His marriage failing. This added to his already present depression. He committed suicide by jumping off the London Bridge in early December. Statements have circulated that after the mutilation of Mary Kelly, John Druitt had accomplished what he had set out to do... Whatever that was..._

**Scotland Yard Inspector Leroy Jethro Gibbs**

_Jethro is a man of high integrity. He had no patience for incompetent police. He never rose above the rank of Inspector but like his career before Jack the Ripper, his career afterwards was filled with commendations and hard cases. But he never spoke about who he thought Jack the Ripper was... He stayed away from speculation and never publicly discussed the case with media._

**H-Division Anthony DiNozzo**

_Anthony stated that Montague was a prime suspect. His relationship with his father was never patched up. In fact it worsened and it wasn't long until their relationship ties were severed since his father held him solely responsible for losing a star reporter and accused his son of botching the Ripper case. Anthony left Whitechapel in early 1890 to London and moved around from place to place. He became a Detective in London in 1892 but then disappeared from the public eye. I'm certain that he and young Anthony still work the case when they can._

**H-Division PC Timothy McGee**

_Timothy... A man with a gift of tracing down movements was transferred to Missing Persons in late 1889. He stayed in H-Division. But he to put a blanket over Jack the Ripper case and never discussed it publicly. In early 1892 Timothy was one of the first constables to walk around with Kodak Cameras. This made photographing crime scenes much easier as well as post-mortem photographs. He is still working in H-Division and popular amongst his peers_

**H-Division Gordon Cale**

_It is believed that The Ripper killed anywhere from 3 to 8 victims__. Gordon worked the case full time and alone if needed to. He was the one who discredited the Fairy Fey victim as a news hoax. A reporter was accused of disgracing H-Division further. He coined the term the Ripper 5. Meaning that he thought that the Ripper only killed 5 women. In early 1889 his wife died giving birth and he __lived for work. In 1891 there was a report of a Ripper like victim in New Jersey America. Soon after, Gordon's body was discovered on the pavement outside the apartments where he lived. Death ruled as suicide._

**Missy A (Abigail Scuito)**

_Abigail continued working as a Prostitute but became very selective. After the Kelly murder she petitioned for prostitution to become organized and contained for their safety. In late 1889 the petition was discontinued. Abigail became a spokeswoman for indoor prostitution. She still works at Ten Bells Pub and had a habit of taking new prostitutes under her wing. A group bought a building in Hanbury Street. In the New Year of 1890... Missy's House opened for business._

**THE FUTURE**

_Unfortunately, Jack the Ripper case has never been solved. But I am positive that for years to come every amateur detective or sleuth will hunt down files and paperwork and testimonies about the events concerning 1888. Each one will probably come up with their own suspects and theories. However, it's depressing to think that now it's almost to the end of the century and still nobody seems close to solve the case. I'm afraid that this case will forever remain unsolved..._

**Doctor Donald Mallard  
20 - 12 - 1899**


End file.
